


If At First You Don't Succeed

by foxy_the_foxy_fox



Series: Second Time Around [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Everyone is good and bad, Gen, Hogwarts First Year, M/M, Not so nice Dumbledore, Not so nice Ron, but different outcomes, canon events, what a concept
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4449755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxy_the_foxy_fox/pseuds/foxy_the_foxy_fox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy was bored. He was in Madam Malkin’s Robes For All Occasions. He’d been made to stand on a stool for what felt like hours and, when he’d almost been finished, Madam Malkin had left to greet the next person coming into the shop! He was pouting when he heard two pairs of footsteps coming towards them. He heard Madam Malkin say, “-Another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.”</p><p>Little did he know, that this boy and this conversation was about to change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my new story! For those of you who read the last, I hope you enjoy this one more, I put a lot more into it. I had no idea that this idea of mine would come so far, but thanks to all who left kudos on my old story (which I had to delete, so if you want to read that let me know in the comments and I'll see what I can do)
> 
> If you're new to this story, I post every two weeks (or as close as I can). There will be one story for each of the years at Hogwarts, and the first ones will be following canon events pretty closely. Harry Potter was written by JK Rowling and I take no credit for the parts I use and I make no profit from this fanfiction.

Draco Malfoy was bored. His father was next door buying his school books, and his mother was up the street looking at wands. They’d already bought him a wand at Ollivanders, a 10 inch Hawthorne with a unicorn hair core, but his mother said it never hurt to be thorough.

He was in Madam Malkin’s Robes For All Occasions. He’d never been before because his mother had a private tailor, but he didn’t make simple black robes, which were required for Hogwarts. So she’d brought him into the shop, ordering him to behave himself before leaving. He’d been made to stand on a stool for what felt like hours and, when he’d almost been finished, Madam Malkin left to greet another person coming into the shop!

Another witch, presumably Madam Malkin’s assistant, came over to him and started pinning his robes. ‘The seamstress is gone so I get the second rate assistant,’ he thought, but he didn’t make any move to stop her. He was still pouting when he heard two pairs of footsteps coming towards them. 

He heard Madam Malkin say, “-another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.”

Was she talking about him? Another one… That meant Hogwarts! Was there a first year being fitted as well? Draco craned his neck to see, before he realized that was too obvious and looked in the opposite direction. The assistant glared at him for moving so much, but Draco didn’t apologize. 

Madam Malkin returned, and with her stood the strangest looking boy Draco had ever seen. 

He was short and thin, and his raven hair stuck out in every direction. His clothes were several sizes too big, stretched to their max, faded, and worst: muggle. The boy was swimming in them and they made him seem even smaller than he was. 

Draco had almost written him off as someone not worth impressing when he caught sight of the boy’s eyes behind glasses that looked to have been broken and rebroken many times.

There was an intensity in the emerald orbs that Draco hadn’t expected to be there. He would’ve assumed there’d be a fog of stupidity that most poor people who wore dirty second hand clothes had, but instead, he saw sharp wit and a calculating look.

“Hello,” Draco said as the boy stepped onto a stool next to him. “Hogwarts, too?”

“Yes,” the boy replied.

“After this, I’m going with my parents to look at racing brooms. It’s a shame first years can’t have their own,” he was about to continue, but when he saw the boys confused face, he asked, “Have you got your own broom?”

“No,” the boy replied curtly.

Feeling unused to rejection, Draco tried again. “Play Quidditch at all?”

“No.”

Draco couldn’t understand why the boy was being so rude. It was like… “Have you ever even ridden a broom?”

This is what got his first real reaction from the boy. He blushed and mumbled, “No…” 

Normally, Draco would feel pleased when he’d made someone else feel foolish, but seeing those green eyes filled with shame just made him feel guilty. He didn’t like the feeling very much.

“Well, my friend Theo’s parents made him wait until he went to Hogwarts to learn to fly. Are your parents like that?”

“No.” the boy said, closed off again.

Draco was left wondering what he’d said once again. Thinking over what he knew about the boy, he began to wonder if he was meeting his first muggleborn.

“But, they are, our kind, aren’t they?” he asked before he could stop himself. ‘Oh well,’ he thought, ‘If he is a muggleborn, then it’s not like I need to be polite to him anyways.’ Still, he felt the odd urge to impress this boy, muggleborn or not.

“They were a witch and a wizard, if that’s what you mean.”

Draco was relieved, but only before realizing, “W-were?”

“They’re dead,” the boy tried to say it coldly, but a bit of sadness creeped into his voice. Draco kindly pretended he didn’t hear it.

“I’m sorry,” Draco replied, but he didn’t know if he really sounded sincere. He didn’t know what to say to console someone. If there was anything you could say to someone who’d lost their parents. He couldn’t even imagine it.

He looked out the window, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t put the boy off again. He saw a giant man looking into the window, with two ice creams in his huge hands.

“I say, look at that man!” he said to the boy next to him.

When, for the first time, the boy smiled, Draco almost cheered out loud.

“That’s Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts,” the boy told him, and he waved. The man tried to wave back, but was hindered by the ice creams in his hands.

While he watched the scene before him, Draco pondered what to say next. He’d heard about Hagrid from his father; that he was a servant of Hogwarts who lived in a shack by the forbidden forest. That he’d go down to Hogsmeade and get drunk. But he didn’t think the boy would appreciate him saying that, and he would bet his favorite broom that the second ice cream in the giant man’s hand was for the boy standing next to him.

“Did he take you here? That’s nice I suppose. But why didn’t your guardians take you?”

The boy’s smile faltered, and Draco cursed himself, but this time the boy hadn’t closed himself off like before.

“My aunt and uncle… They don’t like magic,” the boy finally said.

“Don’t like magic!” Draco exclaimed. “Well, what’s not to like about it?”

“Yeah, I didn’t even know it was all real until I got my Hogwarts letter,” the boy continued, really warming to Draco.

“Hold still please,” Madam Malkin said to him, “You’re almost done.”

“Almost done?” Draco asked, “Then why is it taking me so long?”

“You’re mother’s requested us do all seven years at once,” Madam Malkin explained.

“How do they do that?” the boy asked and it finally sunk in why this boy was so unresponsive when Draco asked about wizarding things. He really didn’t know about any of it.

“We use a spell to tell how you’re going to grow. It doesn’t work 100% of the time, for example if you gained a hundred pounds from over eating, but it’s fairly accurate,” she told him, “If you’d like, I can arrange for your robes as well. It would only take an additional ten minutes.”

“How much would it cost?” the boy asked, and madam Malkin's told him it would be fifty more gallons. Draco wondered why he would ask a question like that while the boy pondered over his coin bag. In the end, he nodded.

“Yes please,” the boy responded.

“Very well,” and Madam Malkin cast the spell before going off to speak with her assistant. Draco looked at the boy. He wondered how he had enough money to buy a whole set of robes, but not to replace the clothes on his back. He was about to ask when the boy interrupted his thoughts.

“Have you ever been, then?” he asked, looking at Draco over his shoulder, “To Hogwarts?”

Draco laughed, “No, no one ever goes before they attend there. I don’t even know where it is to be honest, and most people don’t. My father does, but that’s because he works at the Ministry.”

The boy breathed a sigh of relief.

“You know, there’s plenty of students at Hogwarts with one or even two Muggle parents. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts before they get their letter. Father thinks they shouldn’t be let into the school. They’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Most don’t even try to learn.” Draco paused a moment before continuing, “Say, I know you’re here with Hagrid, but do you want to do some shopping with me? I know some books you could read about wizarding history.”

The boy thought a bit, before nodding, “I’ll have to ask Hagrid, I think he wants us to eat those ice creams together…”

“How about we meet up at Flourish and Blotts in an hour? I want to tell you about Quidditch. It’s the best, really. My father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house.”

“House?”

“Oh, I’ll have to tell you about the houses, too!” Draco realized this was going to be a lot of work. He wondered if it was worth it, but he decided after seeing Harry’s lopsided smile, that it was.

“Okay, dear,” Madam Malkin said to Draco, “You’re finished.”

“If you want,” Draco offered, “I could go talk to Hagrid. Ask him to hang out and tell him you’ll be longer?”

The boy, his new friend Draco realized, nodded.

Draco jumped off the stool and ran outside. Straight up to the giant man.

“Um… Hello?” Draco said, cursing himself for how informal he sounded. The man looked down on him. “I’m Draco Malfoy,” he continued, and when Hagrid’s eyes narrowed, Draco gulped. Still, he pushed on. 

“I was talking to…” Oh no, Draco had forgotten to ask for the boy’s name. There was no way the giant would let them hang out now. “The boy in there. I didn’t catch his name.”

This, for some reason, caused Hagrid to relax slightly.

“Well we- I mean he- he’s getting all seven years done. Madam Malkin told him about it, and he requested it.” Hagrid nodded at this, and Draco started to feel a little more at ease with the giant man. 

“I, uh, I also offered to help him buy some of his supplies, this being his first time in Diagon Alley and all. We were thinking we could meet up at Flourish and Blotts in an hour. Would that be okay with you? He told me you were in charge of him today.”

Hagrid seemed to be thinking it over for a couple minutes, before finally replying in a rough voice, “I imagine it’d be all right, but I’d be escortin’ yer both. Harry is my responsibility.”

‘Harry,’ Draco thought as he nodded, ‘What a plain name. Utterly forgettable, but I suppose there are times being forgettable comes in handy.’ 

Just then he saw his mother coming down the street in his direction. He turned back to Hagrid.

“Tell Harry I’ll meet him. And tell him my name’s Draco,” when Hagrid nodded, he turned one last time to the window. Harry was watching them. Draco waved, and hoped his smile conveyed that he was successful. Harry smiled and waved back, Madam Malkin instantly scolding him for moving. Draco turned and ran up the street to his mother.

***

An hour later, Draco with 3 books in his lap, and a smug look on his face. The books were Hogwarts, A History, Nature’s Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy, and Notable Magical Names of our Time. He’d read all three himself, and thought they’d be a good place for Harry to start. It was one hour later, on the dot, when he saw Harry’s mop of dark hair that fell in front of broken glasses.

He gestured to the books, “I already bought these for you,” he explained, “This one’s pretty boring,” he said, pointing to Nature’s Nobility, “but it has lots of etiquette stuff mother says is the most important part of being a wizard.”

“sounds fun,” Harry said jokingly, “I would’ve thought the most important part of being a wizard is the,” he motioned waving a wand.

Draco and Harry laughed both in agreement that fancy stuff is boring. 

“This one’s all about Hogwarts,” he told him a bit about each book and handed them over.

Harry seemed excited, but remarked, “You didn’t have to buy them for me.”

Draco was just about to reply that he knew that, but that it’s not like it was any hardship for him, when Hagrid said, “Why don’t yer think of it as a birthday present?”

“It’s your birthday?!” Draco exclaimed, “How come you didn’t tell me it was your birthday?”

Harry just shrugged and started looking intently at his course books. Draco watched silently as he pulled down A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration. He pulled down several more books, and Draco followed, not wanting to upset Harry, but also not willing to simply drop the fact Harry hadn’t told him this important fact. As Harry reached for Magical Drafts and Potions, Draco decided it wasn’t worth it. 

“You probably want to memorize that book. My Godfather is the Potions Professor at Hogwarts, and he won’t go easy on you just because you’re my friend.”

“We’re friends?” Harry asked, and Draco turned to face him.

“Of course we’re friends. Do you think I’m this nice to just anyone? Honesty,” he huffed angrily, to hide his hurt.

“Oh, it’s just, I’ve never had one before,” Harry said, “A friend.”

Draco was shocked, but years of training as the Malfoy heir paid off and all he said was, “Bully for you then. Come on, we’ve got to get to the Apothecary before they run out of decent potion ingredients.”

“Thanks,” Harry said shyly as Draco dragged him out of Flourish and Blotts.

Draco and Harry continued gathering school supplies, with Draco giving Harry advice while also trying to explain the rules of Quidditch. He gave up the second task after several confused minutes, saying “You’ll just have to learn it when we get to Hogwarts and have access to brooms.”

There were several arguments over supplies between Draco and Hagrid, most of them involving potions. Draco insisted a copper caldron would be better for brewing, while Hagrid was arguing that it said pewter on the list. Draco just said they couldn’t make people buy copper because it was more expensive. Harry diffused the argument by simply buying both, but another spat sprung up over ingredients. 

Hagrid tried to get the man at the counter to put together a supply of basic potion ingredients, Draco demanded that He be the one to pick out the ingredients.

“They give the people who don’t know any better the weaker ingredients,” he told Harry.

Harry went along with Draco, finding it was simply easier to do. Surprisingly, the more Hagrid and Draco fought, the more comfortable they were with each other.

The one thing they did agree on was that Harry should have a journal. It was Draco who suggested it, but Hagrid immediately agreed.

“Always a good idea to write down what happened to you at the end of the day. Helps you remember things better.”

With both wizards on the same side for once, Harry agreed almost as soon as the words left Hagrid’s lips, though he insisted on buying it himself.

After all the supplies were gathered, Hagrid dragged an embarrassed Harry and a laughing Draco to the Eeylops Owl Emporium to get a birthday present for Harry. After picking out a beautiful snowy owl, Draco showed Harry the back of the store where the snakes were, while Hagrid got supplies for the owl.

“This place is mostly an owl shop,” Draco told Harry, “But it’s got some pretty cool snakes as well.”

Harry was fascinated by the idea of snakes. He turned to Draco as they were walking to them and said, “I accidently freed a snake from a zoo once. It was from Brazil, but it’d never been. It told me-”

“It… spoke to you?” Draco cut him off in wonder.

“Well, yeah. Is that weird? I figured lots of wizards could do it.” Harry replied.

“Weird? No, more like amazing. Parseltongue is a super rare talent,” Draco told him, “You’re really special.”

Draco thought Harry would be happy when he heard that. After all, Draco was always glad when his parents told him he was special. But for some reason, Harry just shrugged and looked away. He looked… ashamed. Draco couldn’t imagine why Harry would be ashamed of being told he was special. Something was definitely not how it should be.

“I wish people would stop saying that.”

“What?”

“That I’m special. Hagrid’s said it a bunch. Plus he said I shouldn’t tell you my last name. Because you or your dad would take advantage of me. All because of this stupid scar.” Harry lifted his bangs, exposing his forehead.

When Draco saw the lightning bolt on Harry’s forehead, he couldn’t believe it. Harry was… Harry Potter. He’d day dreamed of being best friends with Harry Potter, but he had always assumed that he would be more pristine and elegant, not this awkward boy in need of a bath that he saw before him.

His train of thought was stopped when Harry continued, “SEE? Everyone looks at me like that… I want to be just Harry.”

Draco regarded him for a moment before schooling his features into his usual, half-bored look.

“Well then ‘Just Harry’, would you like to look at snakes with me?”

Harry’s face was a mix of surprise, joy, and relief. He followed Draco over to the snakes. They played with them a while, Harry getting them all to do tricks and learning all their names. To Draco, it just seem like Harry was making hissing noises, but the snakes could obviously understand. One bright green snake in particular looked like it had taken a liking to Harry.

“You know,” Draco said, looking over at him, “You could probably get one of these and take it to Hogwarts, as long as it’s not poisonous…”

Harry’s sly grin showed Draco what he thought of that idea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter! I also made some edits to the first (not major so you don't have to reread) because I gained a beta. The beautiful and talented Jadalecki (if you like supernatural, check her out). 
> 
> Anyway, the next chapter will be up on the 29th, and it will probably be about the same length as this one. I was originally going to put these two chapters together, but it worked better to separate them. 
> 
> Have a wonderful day!

As soon as Draco got home, he excitedly told his parents the events of the day. About Harry, his new friend who turned out to be Harry Potter. All throughout dinner, Draco talked about meeting him in the robe shop then helping him with his shopping. His mother called him clever and his father smiled, and told him he would like to speak with him in his office after dinner. Draco couldn’t remember a time he had been more proud.

When dinner was finished, Draco made his way into his father’s study with his head held high. His father was already there, sitting at his desk with an old journal Draco had never seen before in his hands. His father didn’t say anything about it, and put it away in a drawer before Draco could ask, but Draco knew his father had meant for him to see it. He wondered what a beat up journal could possibly mean.

“Draco,” his father began, not looking at his son, “It was smart of you to gain the trust of Mr. Potter.”

Draco frowned at the odd choice of words, but dutifully replied, “Thank you, Father.”

“In the pursuit of power, we must sometimes acknowledge those who are less than we are,” Malfoy senior continued, “but we must always remember we are better than them.”

Draco nodded, though he didn’t feel like nodding. His father had given speeches like this before, and he’d never thought much of it, but when it was about Harry, saying they were better than him made Draco’s stomach twist. Luckily, Draco’s father was too enthralled in his own words to notice Draco’s sulken look.

“That Potter boy is still a halfblood, and his mother was still a mudblood,” a gasp escaped Draco when he heard his father say the word his mother strictly forbid him to say.

His father looked him straight in the eyes, “You’ll remember that, won’t you?” he asked, soft, yet with a power that Draco had often seen his father use to bend weaker wizards to his will. His father rarely used this look on him. Draco nodded, and his father dismissed him.

Draco’s promise to his father lasted for less than a week. 

Before leaving Diagon Alley, Harry and Draco had made a promise to write to each other before school began. After all, a month was far too long of a separation for such a new friendship. While writing, Draco discovered more about Harry, and the more he discovered, the less he was able to think of him as someone to use.

The first letter Draco wrote was short, because despite the time they spent together in Diagon Alley, Draco realized he didn’t know much about Harry. He decided to ask about his family, because then he could write about Malfoy Manor. He couldn’t wait for Harry’s letter back. He’d no doubt be impressed by him.

Harry’s letter back came quickly, but Draco was surprised at what it said. There was no mention of his family or his house at all. He only answered one question Draco asked and it was about his favorite color. As interesting as the fact that Harry liked green was, Draco wanted to know something important about Harry. Asking again didn’t get an answer, so Draco resigned himself to waiting until they met to find out the truth.

Over the next month, he and Harry exchanged several letters. He’d tried to call him Potter, like his father did, but Harry hated that, so he quickly stopped. Draco delighted in being able to tell him everything he knew about the wizarding world. Harry responded asking if there was a way Draco could make sure that the owls only came at night, writing,

‘…My uncle gets angry when he sees the owls outside. I mean, the more wizard stuff they see, the more they ignore me, but my luck is sure to run out at some point, and I think it might be my uncle snapping and killing one of your owls. By the way, why do you have so many? Do you use them on rotation? Can they get tired out? Should I be more careful with how much I make my owl fly?...’ 

Draco was shocked by the first piece of information Harry had given him about his muggle relatives. They sounded horrible, and he wasn’t just saying that because they were muggles. 

Draco didn’t have any idea how to comfort Harry about his family, so he told him about the Hogwarts Houses, hoping he would take a liking to Slytherin the way Draco had, but he’d seemed to like all the houses equally (even Hufflepuff!!). Harry admitted that Hagrid had told him that all bad witches and wizards were Slytherin, and that his parents killer had been Slytherin. Draco replied by sending a list of all the dark wizards who had been sorted into Gryffindor and Ravenclaw (he couldn’t find any for Hufflepuff).

Harry responded by saying Hufflepuff was the house for him, and that he would be there without a doubt. Draco was seriously worried, until he realized he was kidding (irony is hard to detect from letters, who knew). Draco replied saying he was going to be sorted into Slytherin, and that if they were sorted into different houses, they wouldn’t see each other as much. Harry wrote back saying he did hope they were in the same house, but that wishing didn’t really matter because the Sorting Hat, which he’d read about in Hogwarts, A History, would put them where they were best suited. 

As much as Draco wanted him to be in Slytherin, he had to admit he did have traits of the other houses. He’d already read all his course books and the books Draco bought for him, and some he’d read twice. He told Draco he loved reading but had only ever gotten to read books that his cousin cast aside,(which were few and far between, as reading Dudley wasn’t Dudley’s favorite subject) and often they had pages missing. At Draco’s advice, He’d spent extra time reading the potions book, and in his fourth letter, he’d written,

‘Potions seem really interesting, it’s actually a lot like muggle cooking, where to be good, you have to understand the ingredients that go well together. Like which spices you should put in soup. Except with potions, it’s about the base. I was reading the chapter about dragon bone bases, and it was really fascinating…’ 

Draco could talk about potions all day, but he’d never cooked a meal in his life. He’d never even seen a meal being cooked. Until a few years ago, he thought that only house elves could cook, and that it was a part of their house elf magic. That was before he learned not all people own house elves. He wrote back,

‘...I think potions are much more complicated, because anyone can cook, but only wizards and witches can make potions, but I suppose having a hobby is nice….’ 

In Harry’s next letter, Draco found out that cooking wasn’t a hobby for Harry. It was a chore. The things house elves do.

After reading Nature’s Nobility, Harry began to understand the separation between the Muggle and Wizarding Worlds. ‘I thought wizards were just keeping themselves secret,’ he wrote, ‘But they’re actually completely different cultures.’

Draco wrote back saying, ‘Wizarding culture is far more advanced than anything muggles could possibly come up with...’ which prompted Harry to ask why Draco hated muggles so much.

‘They are a subspecies to the rest of us. We’re more advanced than they are.’

But Harry wrote back in his next letter saying,

‘...That doesn’t explain wizards born from muggle parents, though. Or wizards who have non-magical children. The level of magic doesn’t seem to come from a wizard’s parents. I don’t think magic and genetics overlap at all….’

Draco replied, ‘What’s genetics?’ and soon after, Draco found himself learning about muggle ‘Science’. Most of it was completely boring (or so he told himself), but he had to admit things like cassette players and telephones intrigued him. 

After much deliberation, Harry had decided on names for his owl and the Emerald Tree Boa that he had bought for himself. He wrote to Draco saying the snake was highly intelligent, and despite it’s bright green coloring and large fangs, it’s bite couldn’t kill. ‘But I imagine it would hurt quite a bit’, he wrote. It’s name was Solomon, it had told Harry, and it was of a magical breed of snakes, and would grow to be only half of the normal size of the muggle breed, so that it could be domesticated more easily. 

The bird he’d named Hedwig, after a name he found in his History of Magic book.

Draco had been doing research about Parselmouth, and was disappointed to find a lack of information about the topic. Despite most thinking it was a sign of a dark wizard, there was no information as to how the curse was passed down. Most thought it was hereditary, and there was a spell used in most wizarding hospitals on newborns to block the ability. As far as Draco could tell, it was still used today. Draco thought maybe it hadn’t worked on Harry or the spell had been countered somehow.

Harry didn’t seem worried about the lack of information, but he was worried about people thinking it was a sign of a dark wizard. He made Draco promise not to tell anyone about his ability. In the last letter Draco received, Harry had written,

‘They’ll already think I’m weird enough, Dray. I don’t need to add fuel to the fire.’ Draco didn’t understand the last part, but he agreed to keep his mouth shut.

Harry had started calling him Dray in the second letter he sent, and despite the informality of the nickname, Draco found he liked it. He’d never had a nickname before, unless you counted his mother calling him Dragon when he was three. The only thing Draco didn’t like was that it reminded Draco of the promise he made to his father, who would never in a million years approve of the nickname. But, even knowing that, he didn’t ask Harry to stop, and for the first time in his eleven years, he knowingly went against his father’s demands.

Draco had to admit, it was also the first time that he felt like someone actually understood what he thought, and not just what his father thought. And the night before he would leave to go off to school for the first time, he stayed up, rereading the last letter Harry sent to him.

‘… I think Hogwarts will be perfect, no matter what house I’m sorted into. I mean, I already have one friend, and that’s more than any other school year. I don’t even really mind that my relatives have been telling the neighbors I’m going to a school for incurably insane boys….’

Draco couldn’t have agreed with him more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go!
> 
> As I've said before, kudos and comments really mean a lot to me, so if you would write a little comment about how you like it, and what you think should happen, I'd really appreciate that. 
> 
> I'm thinking about starting predictions again. I did them for my last story, and I really liked them. For those who don't know, prediction are when I say what's coming up in the next couple of chapters. If you think that'd be a good idea, let me know and I'll put them in.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter! A+ to me for keeping on schedule. I hope you like this chapter. My beta is Jadalecki, who is wonderful. 
> 
> Next Chapter's up on the 12th, so look forward to that.
> 
> Have a nice day! :)

If there was one Slytherin trait Draco did not possess, it would be patience. He just didn’t understand why you shouldn’t get what you wanted immediately. What was the point of power if you couldn’t use it? Luckily, subtly was a trait he possessed. It was the only thing that kept him from making a scene in the middle of platform nine-and-three-quarters. 

“Maybe we’d better find a compartment,” his friend Theo suggested. “The train’s going to be leaving soon.”

“I told him we’d be meeting here,” Draco told him. “If we go, he won’t-”

“He’ll find you,” Theo told him. “He’s Harry Potter, right? I think he’d be capable of finding someone on a train. Plus, if we don’t go now, Blaise is going to have a fit. You know how he gets when he feels unimportant.” Blaise had gone ahead with Crabbe and Goyle to find a compartment for them to sit in, but not without huffing and telling them it had better not be longer than ten minutes. It had been just over fifteen.

Draco sighed but nodded, following the dark haired boy to the back of the train where the other boys had found an empty compartment. It was a little hot on the train, so they had opened the compartment window. As they entered, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle looked at him expectantly.

“Where is he?” Goyle asked, looking around as if someone was hiding behind Draco.

“He hasn’t shown up yet,” Draco told him sharply, sitting next to Blaise by the window so he could look out of it. “He must be running late.”

“I’m starting to think you made the whole thing up,” Blaise remarked. “I mean, Harry Potter grown up in the muggle world? Seems like a lie to me.”

“I don’t know;” Theo interjected, finished with stowing their luggage and sitting on Blaise’s other side, “it would explain why no one’s heard from him all this time.”

“Shut it, both of you,” Draco told them. “He’s real and he’s coming. Trust me.”

“Fine. But you better hope this isn’t like the time you told us to trust you that riding your father’s peacocks would be perfectly safe,” Blaise muttered darkly.

“You were on board with the plan at the time.”

“I was five!”

“So was I!”

Their argument was cut off when he heard a familiar voice coming from out the window.

“I’m looking for my friend; his name is Draco Malfoy.”

“Malfoy,” a voice responded, and Draco could just see Harry and two twins with bright red hair if he stuck his head out the window.

“I suppose it won’t be hard,” the other twin remarked, “with all that shiny white hair I’ve heard he’s got.”

“Perhaps you should speak for yourself when it comes to hair,” Draco said out the window. All three boys turned towards him. He met Harry’s eyes with a slight smile, before giving the twins a long, piercing look.

“I reckon I don’t need to ask who you are. My father told me all Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”

It was meant to be an insult, something to tell them to stay away from Harry, but to Draco’s surprise, the twins just laughed. Draco sneered at them, but they had already turned away and were talking to Harry.

“Harry, you want help getting getting your trunk and stuff into your compartment?” asked one of the twins.

Draco was just about to tell them they were fine when Harry replied, “Yeah, thanks.”

Draco pulled his head in and sat down in a huff. Blaise chuckled, but quieted when he got one of Draco’s death glares.

So the two Weasleys and Harry got on the train and into the compartment. The twins helped Harry stow his trunk in the compartment Draco and his friends were in. Draco wondered where Solomon was, until he saw Harry’s shirt shift. Suspicious, because there was no breeze in the compartment. Draco almost commented on the genius of hiding his snake there, but he realized he couldn’t with the Gryffindors in the room. The twins were finishing up when a voice could be heard out the window.

“Fred? George? Are you there?”

“Coming mom!” They answered in unison, and with a wave to the first years, they jumped off the train. 

“Hey Draco!” Harry exclaimed, taking the seat across from Draco, next to the window, “I’m sorry I was so late. I couldn’t figure out how to get on the platform.”

“Why didn’t you just floo in?” Crabbe, who was sitting next to Harry, asked.

“He was raised by muggles, Crabbe.” Blaise reminded him. “They don’t have a floo network.”

“Well, then how do they get around?” Goyle asked.

“I don’t know; why don’t you ask him?” Blaise said, pointing to Harry. “He’s the one who was raised with them.”

“I remember you saying Draco was lying,” Theo teased Blaise, not even looking up from his book to do so.

“Hard to not believe when the truth’s right in front of you.” Harry blushed and Draco coughed loudly.

“Oh right,” Blaise whispered loudly, “we’re not supposed to talk about the fact he’s ‘The Boy Who Lived.’”

Everyone laughed except Draco, who looked furious. He turned to Harry to apologize for his friends, but Harry was laughing too. Blaise was obnoxious, but he knew how to put a person at ease. He did this so he could attack when you least suspected it, but that was only if he didn’t like you. 

As the boys talked, the train began to move. Draco watched as Harry tensed and his eyes flew to the window. Harry smiled watching a red-haired girl, probably another Weasley, running to keep up with the train, before the train gathered too much speed and she disappeared from sight. Draco wondered if this was Harry’s first ride on a train.

“Hi Harry!” The twins had reappeared in their compartment.

“So,” one began, “we’re heading down.”

“To the middle of the train,” Said the other.

“Lee Jordan’s got-”

“A giant tarantula down there.”

“Okay,” Harry replied as Draco reeled from the headache those two caused. 

“Well, we just thought we’d thank you for the advice earlier,” they stopped doing the trade off, which must have meant they were being more serious, “and let you know we’re watching out for you. We’ve got two other brothers at Hogwarts; Ronniekins, a first year like you, and Percy the Prefect-”

“-Yes, that’s his whole first name and you can’t address him any other way-”

“But they’re boring, and since you’re hanging out with this lot, you probably won’t be seeing much of them.”

The other one gestured dramatically to him and his brother. “But Fred and George Weasley are tricksters, and the trickster’s code demands you salute a fellow trickster, regardless of his house of origin.”

Both boys raised their arms to their heads and saluted to Harry. 

“If you ever need some hell raising,”

“Let us know.” And with that, they disappeared from the compartment. 

Once he was sure they were gone, Draco quietly told Harry, “You’ll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort.”

Harry looked away sharply, saying, “I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, Dray.”

Draco scoffed, but after looking around the room, added, “Yeah, I suppose you’ve done pretty well.”

Harry looked at Draco again. “I’m serious, Draco. I won’t judge someone because of their last name, or their parents. Hating someone for no reason is what bullies do.” Draco didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded. That seemed to appease Harry, whose face softened slightly.

The room was silent for about a minute when Blaise asked, “Well? Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Draco, as he pointed to the dark-skinned boy sitting next to him. “This is Blaise Zabini, and the boy sitting next to Blaise is Theo Nott. Next to you is Vincent Crabbe, and next to him is Gregory Goyle.” 

Harry nodded to each of the boys as Draco said their names.

All four boys seemed to take well to Harry, and Draco could tell he had been studying the books he’d given him on wizarding culture. Harry found out that Blaise had lived in Italy most of his life, and the only previous times he’d visited were to visit the Malfoy and Nott manors. Harry told him he’d never even left his neighborhood before. Theo lived with his dad and his younger brother in a manor that, while not the size of Draco’s family’s, couldn’t be called small. He’s mom had died shortly after his brother was born. He didn’t talk much about his father. Crabbe and Goyle had known each other since they were in nappies. They’d been chatting for over an hour when Crabbe’s stomach began to rumble loudly. Goyle suggested they go looking for the snack cart.

Theo and Blaise declined, as their mother’s had already bought them lunches and expensive chocolate. This was true for Draco as well, but he wanted to explore the train a bit, see if he could meet some other first years. Harry and Goyle went with Draco and Crabbe, and as the boys stepped out of the compartment, Draco couldn’t help but feel like this is what it would be like all year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go! 
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments to let me know what you think. I have the bigger ideas of where I want the story to go, but I haven't figured out a lot of the details, so if you leave comments about what you want, you might get it.
> 
> Plus my writing willpower comes from comments, so the more I get, the more I write. ;)
> 
> Next chapter we meet the rest of the golden trio (though they aren't really a trio in this fic). So, look forward to that. I'm going to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! This one is longer than the past two, so you're welcome. This chapter also introduces some characters. Remember that word, introduces. the way they are here doesn't necessarily reflex what they will be in this story. 
> 
> Anyway, love to my beta Jadalecki. She is an angel sent down from heaven to ask me 'why the hell is that sentence there, it makes no sense.' 
> 
> I liked writing this bit, so I hope you like reading it!

The compartment they’d been sitting in the was at the back of the train. The boys figured they’d just walk until they found the snack cart. As they walked, they decided on what candy they were going to get.

“I think I will get some Mars Bars,” Harry said wistfully.

The three purebloods looked at him strangely.

“I don’t know what that is, but you certainly won’t be able to buy it on a wizarding train,” Draco told him, “I, for one, am going to be buying as many cauldron cakes as I can carry!”

Crabbe and Goyle hummed at the thought of the sweet treat.

“Me and Goyle are getting some Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans,” Crabbe told them.

They were just walking by a compartment when they heard a girl’s voice. “-are you doing magic? Let’s see it then.” 

Harry stopped and looked through the window. With an eye roll, Draco joined him, Crabbe and Goyle standing behind them. When Draco looked through the window, he could see a bushy-haired girl and a round-faced boy sitting on one side of the compartment, and a boy with bright red hair (probably another Weasley) sitting across from them. The redhead had a wand raised and was casting a spell. Harry was watching with a shine in his eyes. 

“Sunshine, Daisies, butter mellow,  
Turn this stupid fat rat yellow.”

He looked agitated when nothing happened, but didn’t look very surprised. He blushed at the disapproving look of the girl. Draco scoffed softly. The round faced boy heard and turned to them with wide eyes, then, after a second, Draco realized was just how his face looked. He turned to tell the others, but before he could utter a word, the girl began to speak.

“Are you sure that’s a real spell? Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course. I mean, it’s the best school of witchcraft, I’ve heard- I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough.” She turned, and saw the boys standing by outside the door. “Who are you?”

Harry opened the compartment door shyly, entering the compartment with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle behind him. Harry immediately went over next to the round faced boy, but before he could introduce himself, the redhead butted in.

“I’m Ron Weasley.”

“I’m Harry Potter,” Harry said.

“Are you really?” the girl asked. She looked ready to go off again, so Draco cut in.

“This is Crabbe and Goyle, and my name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.” Ron coughed, not so subtly hiding a snicker.

“Think my name’s funny, do you?” Draco sneered. Crabbe and Goyle stepped up behind him, looking menacing.

“You going to fight us?” Ron challenged.

“Us!” Hermione exclaimed. “Oh no; we are not getting involved. We've got a toad to find.” And with that, she dragged the other boy out of the compartment.

“You need to apologize to Draco,” Harry told Ron sternly.

“Or what?”

“Or we're going to take something from you,” Draco responded, looking around the compartment. “Hey, what are those?” He asked, pointing to some sandwiches. “Well, since I doubt you have anything else of value, I guess it will have to do.”

He gestured to Goyle, who began to reach for the sandwich. Harry protested, but Goyle already had his hand on the sandwich. Before he could take it, the rat Ron had cast a spell on earlier ran out and bit Goyle’s hand.

Draco and Crabbe stepped back as Goyle swung his hand wildly, but Harry wasn't quite fast enough.

When the rat nearly hit his head, Solomon came out from under his shirt, hissing wildly. The rat saw Solomon and instantly let go of Goyle, running back to its master.

Ron stared at the snake and stuttered, “You – you've got a bloody snake!'

Harry didn't respond, as he was trying to calm Solomon down without using parseltongue by pushing him head first into the collar of his shirt. This tactic was largely unsuccessful. By the time he'd gotten the snake back under his clothes, Ron had gotten over his shock.

“It's against school rules to have poisonous snakes, Potter.”

“Solomon’s not poisonous,” Harry replied, “and rats aren’t allowed in the school either.”

"I'll have you know that if you get permission from your head of house, you can have a snake or any other pet that's not on the approved list,” Ron retorted.

“Come on, Harry,” Draco said, pulling him out of the compartment. “We'll just ask our head of house once we are sorted. We can't go back to our compartment without snacks. He's not worth it.”

Harry nodded and the four boys left the compartment. A few doors down, they saw Hermione and the toadless boy, though he wasn't toadless any longer. When they stopped to ask where the cart was, Harry struck up a conversation with the boy.

“I never heard your name,” he said. “What is it?”

The boy looked like he'd much rather be anywhere else than where he was. He blushed until his face was bright red and mumbled, “Neville.”

“Well, it's nice to meet you, Neville,” Harry said. Far too sincere for Draco's liking. There was no advantage to befriending this boy. There were far better alliances to make.

Neville blushed even redder, but cheered up a bit when Harry smiled at him. 

“We were just looking for the snack cart. Have you seen it?”

They both nodded, saying that they seen it go by when the boys had been fighting. Harry thanked them, and they ran back in the direction of their compartment. They managed to catch the cart just before it made it back to their compartment.

“Can you imagine how embarrassing it would've been if we came back after the cart? Theo and Blaise would've never let us live it down,” Draco remarked as they paid for their treats. While Draco had gotten only his favorites, Harry had gotten a bit of everything. Crabbe and Goyle, on the other hand, had each gotten a lot of everything. It seemed they both had major sweet tooth. 

Once they were back in the compartment, they recounted the story about Ron and the rats to Theo and Blaise. Of course, when Harry was telling the story, it was completely honest, but Draco’s version earned him several disbelieving stares.

“I can't believe the weasel couldn't cast a simple spell.” Blaise laughed. “Their family might be poor blood – traitors, but all of them have lots of power. I heard the second oldest is a dragon tamer in Bulgaria.”

“Dragon tamer?” Harry gasped. “That’s so amazing!”

“Yeah, and the oldest is a curse breaker for Gringotts. So how come Ron can't spell a rat yellow?”

“Maybe it wasn't a rat…' Crabbe suggested. Everyone else laughed.

“That's a good one, Crabbe,”' Draco chuckled.

“Sure bit like a rat,” Goyle muttered.

Draco's laugh died. “I swear, if it weren't for Solomon, I'd write to my father and get that rat out of Hogwarts.”

“You know,” Harry commented, “you talk about your father a lot."

“What?! No, I don't,” Draco insisted. He blushed when the other boys laughed.

“It's not bad or anything,” Harry backtracked.

“Oh, it's pretty bad,” Blaise disagreed. “You need to stop running to your father every time you need something. We are in school now.”

Draco scowled and refused to talk to anyone while they were changing into their school uniforms. The boys were on the verge of actually apologizing when the train stopped, but just before they got off, Draco said, “I know what people say about my father. I'm not stupid. But I can't hate him –”

“Mate!” Theo interrupted. “Who said anything about hate? We're just saying that you don't need to depend on him so much.” Blaise nodded.

Draco nodded back, and as soon as he did, Harry let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh thank goodness!” he cried. “I couldn't stand you being angry for one more second.” 

The other boys laughed, and Blaise teased, “I don't know if you can hang out with us if you can't handle Draco's hissy fits.”

'HISSY FITS!" Draco exclaimed, causing Theo and Blaise to roar with laughter. “At least I'm better than Pansy,” Draco muttered.

“Anyone's better than Pansy,” Theo said.

Just then, a voice echoed throughout the train. “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately.”

When the train came to a stop, the boys all exchanged nervous and excited grins as they got off the train. 

***  
The small platform was dark and cold, and Draco was glad his mother had made him wear a sweater that morning. Harry, who only had a huge then T – shirt, was shivering like mad. He perked up once he heard Hagrid's voice calling over the chattering students.

“First years! First years over here!” He had a lamp that swung back-and-forth over the heads of the students. When he saw Harry he shouted, “All right there, Harry?”

Harry nodded as the six boys scrambled over to the giant man. Theo, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle all had shocked expressions, but Harry and Draco were already used to the Hagrid's size.

Once Hagrid had gathered all the first years, he led them all down a steep, narrow path. It was so dark, Draco couldn't even see his own hands in front of him. Nobody said a word, but Neville sniffled once or twice.

Normally, he would've made a jab at the boy for being a crybaby, but he was too busy trying to reassure himself that he wasn't alone.

'I'm not afraid,' Draco thought to himself, but he didn't really believe it.

He was extremely relieved when Hagrid called over his shoulder, “You'll get your first sight of Hogwarts in a sec, just around the bend here.”

Draco gasped with the rest of the first years when they saw the castle. The lake in front made the school look twice as big, and the school wasn't lacking in size in the first place. Hagrid lead them down to the boats in front of the lake.

“No more than four in a boat!” Hagrid called as they started towards the water.

The six boys looked at each other. Finally, Blaise and Theo decided to ride with Pansy and Millicent, two girls they had managed to avoid on the train. It was nothing against them, but no self-respecting 11-year-old boy voluntarily spent time with girls. So Draco, Harry, Crabbe, and Goyle all shared a boat. Hermione and Neville were in a boat with Ron Weasley, and a timid looking boy who Draco didn't know, so he must've been a Muggleborn.

Hagrid, of course, had a boat for himself. “Everyone in?” He shouted. “Right then –FORWARD!"

And then boats began to move. Everyone was silent as they approached the castle. Hagrid shouted for them to put their heads down and they passed under an ivy wall that hit a passage in the cliffs under the castle. They traveled along the dark tunnel until they reached the harbor. Everyone got out of their boats and followed Hagrid down the passageway that led them right to the front door of the castle.

After checking once more that everyone was there, Hagrid reached up and knocked on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is!
> 
> Next Chapter should be the 26th, so look forward to that (ps, it's the sorting) 
> 
> If you would leave a comment or a kudos, that would mean the world to me. That's what keeps me writing. 
> 
> Have an Amazing Day! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry this is a day late, Homecoming was last night, and we were just so busy, my beta and I couldn't sit down and look at this until today. (btw, my beta is Jadalecki if you haven't checked her out you you should). She and I both really like this chapter, so I hope you do too.
> 
> Enjoy!

The door opened promptly, and in the doorway stood a tall, older witch in dark green robes.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.

“Thank you Hagrid; I’ll take them from here.” She opened the door and beckoned them to follow.

The entrance hall was even bigger than the one at Malfoy Manor. The rest of the castle looked just like the pictures of Draco’s parent's school days that his mother had shown him. 

Still, being in the castle for the first time was different than he’d ever expected. Draco could smell the feast and hear the rest of the students from a doorway to the right. Professor McGonagall led them to a small empty chamber off the hall. 

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat once and the entire room went silent. She was the kind of teacher who required total obedience from her students... And she got it.

“Welcome to Hogwarts. The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards.” Despite saying that, Draco didn't miss the fact that she said Gryffindor first, and Slytherin last.

“While you're at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.”

Harry raised his hand slightly to get her attention.

“Yes?” she asked.

“I was wondering who has the House Cup now,” he asked, and McGonagall’s face fell slightly.

“That would be Slytherin, mister….?”

“Potter.”

There was a gasp from the group; those from Wizarding families stared and craned their necks to see and began whispering to their neighbors.

“That's enough!” Professor McGonagall told them, and everyone quieted. “The sorting will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smartening yourselves up as much as you can while you’re waiting.” With one last look at Harry, she left the chamber.

Draco watched Harry stare at the castle. For the first time, he started to wonder if Harry was going to be sorted into Slytherin. All summer he'd been sure he and Harry would be sorted into the house of snakes and together they would rule Hogwarts.

“Have you decided what house you want to be in?” he found himself asking.

“I mostly haven't thought about it. There's nothing I can do about it, so why should I decide before I get there?”

“What if wanting to be in a certain house makes the difference?” Draco whined, though he didn't notice his change in tone.

“Well then, I suppose Slytherin wouldn't be too bad,” Harry said slyly.

Draco nodded, feeling reassured.

The two boys waited along with the rest of the first years, until finally, Professor McGonagall returned.

“Move along now,” she said, and let them into the Great Hall. 

The sight took all the first years’ breaths away. Hundreds of candles floated above four long tables filled with talking students. Draco looked up to see the night sky overhead. Behind him, he could hear Hermione explaining about the enchantment on the ceiling. Draco rolled his eyes. If there were students too lazy to open a book before coming to the most prestigious wizarding school in the world, it wasn't his job to teach them.

When they reached the front of the Great Hall, McGonagall placed a hat on a stool in front of them. The first years stood in a group, Harry was on Draco’s right, and Crabbe and Goyle were on his left. Hermione and a couple other students were trying to get them to stand in alphabetical order, but no one was really paying attention to them. 

‘The Sorting Hat,’ Draco thought as the whole hall went silent.

Then, the hat began to sing.

“Oh you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!

All of the older students burst into applause, but the reactions among the first years were mixed. Some muggleborns looked relieved that sorting wasn't something worse. Weasley was even muttering something about a troll. Most of the purebloods and half-bloods looked unsurprised. 

Harry's face was different. He looked like he might vomit. Or even run as fast as I could in the opposite direction. Draco opened his mouth to comfort him, but Professor McGonagall stepped forward with the long scale before he could.

“When I call your name,” she said, “you will put on the hat and sit on the stool.“ Without even looking up at them she began.

Draco had a plan to memorize all the students names in the same year as him, as well as what house they were sorted in. Harry had given him the idea that knowing the strengths of other of the other houses might be better than only speaking to other Slytherins. He still thought Hufflepuffs were weak and Gryffindors were dumb, but not everyone could be in Slytherin, he supposed.

Like this first girl McGonagall had called, Hannah Abbott. Just looking at her, he could tell she was going to be a Hufflepuff.

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

And he was right.

“Bones, Susan.”

Ravenclaw? No, Gryffindor? some people were less obvious than others.

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Draco decided it made sense. Hufflepuff was where are you went if you didn't fit anywhere else.

“Boot, Terry.”

Ravenclaw. Draco had seen him with several large books getting on the Hogwarts Express. Another girl named Mandy went to Ravenclaw, and then Lavender Brown went to Gryffindor, and the red table cheered obnoxiously.

Then Millicent’s name was called, and Draco told Harry, “This is one of the girls we were talking about on the train.”

She was sorted into Slytherin. No surprise there. Finch-Fletchley went to Hufflepuff, and then the next to be sorted was Granger. As she walked up to the hat, Draco knew for sure she would be…

“GRYFFINDOR!”

What? Draco, and all the other students who had spoken to Hermione on the train gasped. She took the hat off and walked to the Gryffindor table. The wrong table. Draco have thought the Sorting Hat was always right, but Hermione was as much a Ravenclaw as he was a Slytherin. By thinking about this, he missed the next few people that went, until Neville Longbottom was called. He was sorted into Gryffindor. Goodness, was Gryffindor taking people from all the other houses now?

When Morag, Mcdougal was called, Draco realized he would be next. Crabbe and Goyle had both already been sorted, and were waiting at the Slytherin table. But Theo, Harry, and Blaise we're still to go after him.

“Malfoy, Draco.”

In the corner of his eye, Draco saw Harry give him a slight nod. He walked up to the front of the hall and jammed the hat on his head.

‘Please put me in Slytherin, please.’

A voice answered, whispering in Draco's ear, ‘Why would you doubt now, when you never have before?’

‘I've seen you sort other people in the wrong house today.’

‘Who?’ the Hat sounded amused.

‘Granger, for one. Longbottom too.’

‘You, young man, need to learn to curb your pride, or it will lead you to your downfall. I can see all possible futures before me, and what is most obvious is not always right. Who you are at eleven is not who you will be when you are seventeen, and I always know where people will fit best. Do you understand?’

‘Yes sir.’ Draco answered promptly.

‘Very good. Now, onto your house. I believe you would fit in in- “SLYTHERIN!”

After the final word was shouted to the Great Hall, Draco took off the hat and handed it to McGonagall. He walked to the southern table, sitting down across from Crabbe and Goyle.

The prefect leaned over as he sat down. “That took longer than most of us thought it would. What the hat say to you?”

“I was just asking it about some of the other students, it didn't take long at all to decide where to sort me.”

As they were talking, Theo and another boy had been sorted. Theo came over and sat by Draco, but leaving a person size the space between them.

“Who are you saving that spot for? Zabini?” the female prefect asked from the opposite side of the table.

“No,” Draco replied, “Potter.”

All of the talk around them came to an immediate stop.

“Potter, as in, Harry Potter?”

Draco nodded.

“He’s at Hogwarts?”

Another nod.

“And you think he'll be sorted into Slytherin?” a fourth year by them asked skeptically.

As Draco was nodding for the third time his words were put to the test.

“Potter, Harry!”

The rest of the hall broke out in whispers as Harry approached the hat. Draco could see his hands shaking from across the room as he put the hat on his head.

Time seemed to stand still as everyone waited for the hat to make a decision, and just when Draco thought maybe it wouldn't, a clear voice rang out.

“SLYTHERIN!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just love cliffhangers? heehee, I sure do. 
> 
> Anyway, next chapter should be up the 11th, though it may take longer as I'm going to be in Seattle touring collages for most of this next week. I already have the chapter written, but I'm not super happy with it, and I think I want to change certain things.
> 
> For those of you who read the old one, and Have been waiting for Lucian and Gemma and Flint, they won't really be in the next chapter, but they will be staring heavily in the chapter after that. I'm so exited to be bringing them back, You have no idea.
> 
> Lastly, as always, please leave comments or kudos if you liked this work, seeing the emails I get telling me I have kudos is literally the only thing that reminds me to write the next chapter. You all are great.
> 
> Have a wonderful day! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Sorry this is a day late again, but it's a good chapter, so I hope you'll forgive me. I also hope you'll forgive me for what I'm going to say next.  
> I'm taking a little break. I've fallen behind on my writing and I'm being over run with homework which means if I was to keep up with posting a chapter every two weeks, I'd be sacrificing the quality or the amount, or my homework, and I don't want to make that sacrifice. You all deserve the very best I can give you, and that's why I'm going to postpone my next chapter until Saturday December 5th. I'll tell you about what that next chapter will look like (and it will be awesome) in the notes after the chapter.
> 
> Anyway, as always, I don't own Harry Potter, or the lines I've taken from the book, and I'm eternally grateful for my beta Jadalecki, who makes my writing 10x better. 
> 
> I hope you like it :)

The Great Hall was filled with whispers has Harry made his way to the floor and table. Draco clapped, and the other Slytherins joined in. Harry found the open spot next to Draco and turned towards the staff table where Professor McGonagall stood speechless, having forgotten there were still several students to be sorted. She quickly recovered from her mistake when Harry sat down and moved on to the next first year on the list.

Draco could care less about the other students. Weasley was going to be sorted in Gryffindor, and Blaise would be sorted into Slytherin, and everyone else could go wherever they pleased.

The prefect who’d asked about Draco's sorting greeted Harry. “Welcome to Slytherin,” he said reaching out to shake Harry's hand.

Harry reached out, but stopped just before their hands touched. “This is a test,” Harry said, and performed the proper pureblood greeting, bowing to the prefect. The prefect did a half bow in return.

“We have to test anyone who we know isn't a pureblood. Traditions are paramount in this house. All ignorance must be immediately corrected.”

“What Lucian is trying to say is, if you don't know the traditions, we’ll teach you,” the female prefect told Harry. “ Lucian means well, but he can be a little overbearing.” She smiled, and Harry tentatively smiled back.

“I must say,” Lucian told him, trying for a more pleasant tone, “you were the only student this year we weren't expecting. It does make separating the dorms out easier now, though.”

“SLYTHERIN!” The sorting hat yelled, and the whole table clapped as Blaise, the last student to be sorted, joined the Slytherin house. It seemed like the Slytherins were clapping louder than they had for the rest of the students, so Draco asked a fourth-year sitting by them why.

“It's because we won,” the boy carefully replied.

“Won what?”

“It's an informal competition to see which house gets the most first years every year. Slytherin usually doesn’t win, so we're happy about it.”

As Blaise sat down next Theo, Dumbledore stood and smiled down at the Gryffindors, ignoring the rest of the students in the Great Hall.

All the students quieted as Dumbledore began to speak.

“Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”

He sat back down, and the Slytherins and Ravenclaws rolled their eyes as the other houses laughed and clapped.

Harry looked at Lucian and asked, “ Is he... a bit mad?”

“Mad? Oh absolutely.” The other Slytherins nodded. “But there's no arguing he's also a genius. He might even be a good headmaster, if he weren't so biased.”

“Potatoes, Harry?” Greg asked, and Draco watched Harry's eyes widened when he realized the food has been served. Harry begin piling food on his plate.

“You hungry?” Lucian asked, chuckling.

Harry nodded. “It feels like forever since I last ate.”

“Well, dig in, all of you,” Lucian told the first years. “You'll need your energy for tonight. The other houses share the House Rules during dinner, but we like a bit more privacy.”

Anyone watching the Great Hall that evening would be able to see that the Slytherin table was different from all the others. All the Slytherins ate with impeccable manners (though Draco had to remind Harry on details a couple of times). There was very little talking; it reminded Draco of dinners that he had at home when his mother had guests over.

That's when he realized. The Slytherin house was the family, and the rest of the houses were the guests. While all the other houses, especially Gryffindor, acted loud and gave themselves away, the Slytherin table would wait for a safer time to discuss their secrets.

Harry didn't seem to understand, though, and after he'd finished eating (how he managed to eat all that food, politely, Draco had no idea), he was anxiously watching the rest of the students. Draco caught his eye and gave him a reassuring half-smile, But Harry just looked back and forth between the staff table and Draco. When Draco looked at the table, he could see what Harry was worried about. Professor Snape was glaring at him. Draco gave Harry a look that told him he saw it too, but that now wasn't a good time to talk about it. Harry calmed down after that, and desserts were served, judging by the look of Harry's face, the desserts in the wizarding world were the same as in the muggle world. While Harry was distracted with dessert, Draco snuck another look at the staff table, this time, not to look at Severus, but to look at the new Defense Professor. 

‘How can a man who looks so scared of everything, be able to teach us defense?’ he thought, turning his attention back to his dessert.

When, the desserts finally disappeared, the headmaster got to his feet again, and the hall went silent.

“Ahem- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”

Draco could see the Weasley twins’ smirks from where he was sitting all the way across the hall.

“I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

Harry looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or to worry.

“He can't be serious?” He asked Lucian.

“Who knows? But it's hardly worth it to find out.”

Dumbledore continued, crying out, “and now before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!”

He flicked his wand and a golden ribbon flew off and forms of lyrics.

“Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!”

And despite keeping their masks on throughout the whole meal, the Slytherins sang along with the rest of the school.

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald,  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling,  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot.

When everyone was finished (the Weasley twins singing at the speed of a funeral March), everyone clapped and cheered. When the cheering died down, Dumbledore dismissed them with a patronizing, “Off you trot!”

The first years followed Lucian out of the Great Hall. All of the first years from the other houses went upstairs, and the new Slytherins watched a funny looking ghost torment the Gryffindors.

“That's Peeves; he's a poltergeist who lives, or, well, doesn't, to torment the students. He mostly leaves the Slytherins alone, because he's scared of the Bloody Baron, our house ghost.” 

“Why?” Harry asked.

“No one knows..” Lucian said ominously, and the other prefect elbowed him.

“Don't scare them! We need to get downstairs; we’ll give them a tour tomorrow.”

She and Lucian led them all down deep into the heart of the castle. It all seemed like a familiar maze, one that Draco was familiar with, as The Malfoy Manor was very similar.

Draco, while he would never admit it, was a little unsettled by the darkness; it was only held off by the occasional torch. He wasn’t the only one. Pansy and Daphne were holding hands because they were so scared. The only one who didn’t seem scared was Harry. 

“You're so brave!” Pansy gushed, and all the boys wrinkled their noses in disgust at her high pitched voice. “How did you learn to stand it?”

“Um, I guess, when you spend a lot of time in the dark, you just get used to it.” 

‘Another fact to tuck away about Harry,’ Draco thought.

The second smallest first year, who Draco remembered from the sorting as Tracy Davis, nodded. She spoke in a raspy voice.

“If you’re not scared, then it doesn’t matter how much time you spend there.”

Lucian and the other Prefect shared a sad look over the heads of the first years, who looked at Harry and Tracy in awe. The talk turned to other things, and the conversation was forgotten by everyone but Draco. 

After walking several more floors down, the two prefects stopped directly outside of a random patch of wall. There were no potted plants or distinguishing features separating it from any other patch of wall they had passed.

The first years gathered around them as Lucian began to speak.

“Hogwarts is like a home, and every home has a heartbeat. Slytherin prides itself on being able to hear this heartbeat, and we use it to tell where we are in the castle. In return, she will guide us where we need to go.”

Draco didn’t know what to make of this. His father always told him it was the submissive partner who took care of the home, and since no Malfoys were submissive, he’d never been trained at sensing where he was. Despite that, he’d never had a problem telling where he was at the Malfoy Manor, unlike his father who, even after living in the house his whole life, still often needed houses elves to guide him to certain rooms. Draco looked at Lucian who was looking at the other prefect who continued.

“This is how you will find the Slytherin common room. This piece of wall changes shape often sometimes it will be a blank slab of wall sometimes it will be a door but the only way to find it is to listen to the castle. We know most of you don't know how to listen yet, so we will cast a spell on you that will allow you to find our common room whenever you're searching for it.”

Both prefects stepped back and cast a spell, which sent sparkles over the heads of the first years that disappeared when they touched the first year’s heads. Some of the first years gasped, and looked around as if seeing something they’d never seen before, but Draco didn’t really feel that different. It didn’t look like Harry did either, judging by the confused look Harry was giving Millicent, who kept looking from the floor to the wall, like it contained all the secrets of magic. 

“This spell will last for one month; use that time to start paying attention to the castle.”

And then the two prefects walked straight through the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go!
> 
> Now on to what you will see next time. It's going to be the best chapter I have put out (it better be, if I'm making you wait almost two months for it). Among other things, it will include:  
> -Introductions for Gemma and Flint (and more of Lucian)  
> -Nicknames  
> -Introduction of Snape (and a bit from his point of view at the end)  
> -Draco's fear of the dark  
> -The rules of Slytherin
> 
> Basically, everything everyone who read my old work has been waiting for, and even more. 
> 
> But enough about what's coming up, lets talk about what we've just done. In between the last update and this one, I reached 100 kudos. Thanks so much!! Please, if you haven't left a kudo, or a comment, think about doing so. Especially over this break. I'm planning on writing quite a bit, and I'm always open for suggestions. 
> 
> Have a wonderful rest of October and November everyone!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I really hope you guys like this chapter, I put a lot into it. It's my longest and it has the most original content of any of the other chapters, and there's more to come. I'm going back to posting every other week (that is what I did before, right?) I already have the next chapter written, and I'll keep trying to stay ahead.
> 
> I also removed the chapter titles, because they were too difficult. Sorry if you were really attached to them or something. 
> 
> Hope you love it and you have an amazing week.  
> :)

When Draco entered the common room with the other first years, he was shocked by how homey it was. Green lamps hanging on chains gave the room an eerie light, but the main light source with a hearth in the center of the room. The mantel was engraved, and looked like it had been around since Hogwarts was founded. The whole room reminded Draco of the dungeons at Malfoy manor. There were four separate archways in the four opposite sides of the room, two leading to the boys and girls dormitories, one leading to the Head of House chambers, and one leading deeper into the dungeons.

Various student sat around the fire on the floor. The older students sat in the leather couches; the whole Slytherin house was in the common room. Lucian made his way in front of the fire, and the other students moved so the first years could sit in front of him. Draco was used to having all eyes in the room on him, but he could tell Harry was uncomfortable. Theo and Blaise noticed too, and the three boys subtly made sure they were sitting next to Harry. 

Silence creeped over the common room, until Lucian broke it by exclaiming, “Welcome back to the house of snakes, ladies and gentlemen!”

The other Slytherins, especially the sixth and seventh years, cheered. Most of the first years of took all of this in stride, but a few, namely Harry and Tracy Davis, were visibly shaken up. Tracey looked as if she thought the Slytherins were about to perform a ritual sacrifice with her as the victim. Draco didn’t understand why she was so scared; it wasn’t like she was the first student to go to Hogwarts. Draco had seen two older boys waving at her while she was in line to be sorted.

When the cheering died down, Lucian raised his hand, and the room fell silent once more.

“In Slytherin, we place high value on tradition. Because of this, the other houses think we are prejudiced. But this is not true. Gemma,” he gestured to the other prefect, “Is a half-blood.” 

Draco didn't understand why Lucian was telling them this. They'd all been picked for Slytherin already, which meant they all wanted to be here. Right?

But Lucian continued, “Some of you probably heard the being Slytherin will make you a dark wizard, or that we are the only house that has dark wizards. This is ridiculous. All of the houses have flaws.”

The common room was quiet, but you could feel the agreement coming from the other students. Gemma, who had been standing next to Lucian, told them, “I know many of you are wondering why we are talking about this. I also bet some of you wondered why Slytherin’s banner hangs in the Great Hall, since the students and teachers think these things of us.” Gemma was considerably more intimidating than Lucian, and when she talked, the lower years sat up straighter, the way you do when faced with a harsh teacher. 

“I will tell you why. We work harder than any other students in the school. We don't get in fights; we don't break the rules. We fight for every point we earn. So if you came here thinking you were going to enforce your pureblood ideals and cost us all the house cup, you're greatly mistaken.”

Draco half expected Lucian to make a joke, because it seemed that was what they did. One came off as too serious and the other made it a joke. They played well off each other and Draco wondered if they were a… Couple. His nose wrinkled, and he shook his head to get rid of the thought.

But Lucian didn't say anything, and it started to sink in how serious they were. Draco had always thought that Slytherin was the best house without trying, but he supposed it made sense for them to work hard. His mother used to tell him that it felt better to succeed if you worked hard. Draco guessed he would find out.

“And now, we have proof that Slytherin isn't evil with Wonderboy here,” Lucian said, winking at Harry.

Draco rolled his eyes Lucian’s actions. He was foolish if he thought Harry would like him just because Lucian winked at him. 

One of the sixth years noticed his eye roll.

“What's wrong, Blondie? You want Wonderboy all to yourself?” Lucian looked Draco with an evil smirk. “You know, I heard they used to call your father the Ice King back when Slytherin still had a royal court. Looks like the Ice Prince doesn't play well with others.” 

There were a couple of chuckles among the older students, and a seventh year girl called out, “More like Princess, with his soft blonde hair and his long lashes.”

Draco sputtered and blushed angrily. He wasn't a girl.

Lucian looked at both of them, and grinned. “So, Wonderboy and his Ice Princess? I like it.”

“Smooth transition,” Gemma remarked sarcastically, but she too was smiling. 

“See, it's not all serious. Some of the traditions are really fun, for us anyway.” The older students laughed, and the second years groaned.

“Now, if you're a third or fourth year this tradition doesn't apply to you. Remember you are not allowed to use the name. If you are found to be using these names, you will disqualify yourself from playing as an older student. Is that clear?”

The students nodded.

“So, first years,” Lucian turned to them with a smirk. “Over the next two weeks, the fifth years are going to watch you, and pick nicknames for you all. This is what the fifth, sixth and seventh years will call you by. If they need a favor, it’s your job as underlings to do it for them.

“Second years will keep their names from last year, but they're no longer slaves.” There was some groaning from the groups of second years sitting in front of the largest couch, in particular a boy with auburn hair and glasses. 

“Something you want to share with the rest of us, Sparkle?” Lucian asked.

The boy, ‘Sparkle,’ shook his head, and the second years went quiet. 

“Once you enter third year the names become invalid. All students have to listen if you say you don't want your nickname used. If you don't mind, then they can keep using it. The only exception is seventh years. Seventh years can use each other's nicknames. I know I'm looking forward to that,” he looked at a stocky student Draco and thought was a seventh year. The boy glared at Lucian, but didn't say anything.

“So,” Lucian said, “we’ve got two nicknames down already. Anyone want to volunteer to go next?”

No one said anything. Lucian sighed dramatically, but didn’t seem very surprised. Many of the first years were looking worriedly at the fifth years, making sure they weren’t doing anything embarrassing, but Draco doubted anyone else would get their nicknames tonight.

Just then, Pansy Parkinson yawned loudly. Gemma looked at her and the rest of the first years with sympathy.

“We're almost finished,” she told them. “Just one more tradition and then a word from our head of house, then off to bed. In the morning you get your schedule and we'll give you a tour of the school. Are you guys going to survive?”

They all nodded. Draco was once again reminded of a family where the older members looked out for the younger ones. He’d never really been a part of a family like that, but those kinds of things are just instinctual. 

“Now for the final tradition. We are all a pretty private bunch here in Slytherin. Most of the time, if you ask a private question we're not going to answer it. But now is the time you can ask anything and we will give you an answer. Use this question wisely. Does anyone want to go first?”

Goyle spoke, “I do.”

Everyone looked at him, and Draco sighed. He knew what was coming.

“What are the best foods to eat?”

The fifth year that Lucian teased earlier barked out a sharp laugh.

“You certainly know the important questions,” he told Goyle, who beamed at him. 

“The answer of course is all the food.” The students laughed, but many were also nodding. Goyle (and also Crabbe) seemed ecstatic about this discovery.

That silly question helped lighten the mood considerably. The next first year that after question was Tracy Davis, who had gained some courage sense they entered the common room.

“I was wondering, well, you've said a lot about what Slytherin isn't like. So, what is it like?”

All the older students looked approvingly at Tracy, and Lucy and even muttered “good question.” Gemma was the first to respond.

“I think that being Slytherin is different from person to person, and that fact makes it different from all the other houses. To me, it's about being able to use your advantages. If you are athletic, workout. It's also about adopting with your weaknesses. If you can't do Charms, befriend someone who can.”

“People call that cheating, but it's really just cunning and ambition. People will call anything they can't do cheating, but to us it's common sense.” Lucian added.

The next question was from Pansy. “Do we have to wear the uniform every day?” 

“Well, every day you go to class,” Gemma responded, to which Pansy replied with a puff and a frown. 

Blaise asked when students would be able to choose their own classes, and was disappointed when Lucian told him it wouldn't be until third year. Crabbe asked about Quidditch, and the stocky boy introduced himself as Marcus Flint, the Quidditch captain. He told them that they were no first years allowed to play on the team, but that he had a training camp for anyone interested during the offseason. Draco could tell Clint was very passionate about Quidditch and especially beating the Gryffindor captain, Oliver Wood. Daphne asked about the rooms, and the prefects explained that there would be two in each room (this was made easy because there were even numbers this year). Draco hoped that whoever chose the rooms took who the student wanted to be with into consideration, because there was no way he and Harry were separating.

Millicent asked about pets and if they would be allowed in the common room. She and the other students with pets were pleased to hear that cats were allowed to roam, and that more sociable animals would sometimes become Slytherin pets, rather than pets of a single student. Theo asked which classes were the hardest, and the older students told him he'd asked a good question. They told the first years that McGonagall was stern but fair; that Sprout was kind, but you wanted to get a good first impression. Act excited in Flitwick’s class. Never take divination.

“Snape will give you house points for everything, because that’s the only thing that will even us out, as the other teachers don’t give as many points to Slytherin, but he won’t give good grades for free. And potions doesn’t come easily to all of us, even though we’re Slytherin,” Lucian told them, looking sheepish.

Once Theo’s question had been answered, Draco realized that the only two left were him and Harry, and he had no idea what to ask. When he looked at Harry, he could tell his friend just had the same realization.

Luckily, Harry seemed to recover quickly, or perhaps he already knew what he was going to ask and was just nervous to say it.

“Are we allowed to become friends with students from other houses?” Harry breathed, nervousness clear in his voice. Draco instinctively leaned closer to Harry to comfort him.

The other students looked at Harry in surprise for a second, but then their faces transformed into looks of pity and sympathy. They looked back and forth among themselves, none of the older students wanting to be the bearer of bad news. 

Finally, it was Lucian who was the one to respond.

“Wonderboy, I like you, and that means I'm not going to sugar coat it for you. There are no rules saying you can't befriend whoever you want, but that doesn't mean you're going to have friends from all the houses. The truth is, you all are probably going to face people who see the color of your robes as a reason to hate you. I hope this isn't the case, but I want you to be prepared for the worst.”

The look on Harry's face was heartbreaking. Draco didn't know much about Harry's muggle life, but he'd seen enough to realize he'd probably been bullied. The way he reacted when he saw someone using their power over someone else. Harry probably thought he was trading his bad life for something equally bad.

Although Lucian and Gemma didn't know Harry like Draco did, they certainly saw something in his gaze, something that caused Gemma to tell him, “Harry, you might not have any friends in any other houses, but you will always have friends in Slytherin, and if other students don't like Slytherin, fuck them.” 

Several first years gasped, and suddenly Draco knew his question.

“Why?”

The students turned to look at him. Undeterred, Draco continued.

“If you said all that stuff is untrue about the Slytherin house, why do people believe it? Why don't we just tell them differently? Surely there’s proof that they’re wrong.”

Gemma and Lucian looked at each other. Lucian said, “Well, we did tell them they could ask anything.”

“I suppose,” Gemma replied, “But isn't it also a tradition for them to find it themselves? Does that tradition trump this one?”

Lucian shrugged, “How about we just give them a little hint? That way we follow both tradition?”

Gemma nodded, and they turned back to the first years, who had heard every word.

“The Hogwarts founders left behind some secrets in the castle when they built it. This includes a secret room for each of the founders that has their journal and documents. There is proof showing that even Slytherin himself wasn’t the villain people think he is. There is also an all school common room. However, a student can only see the room of their House’s founder. The school’s magic prevents you from giving directions or taking anyone there if they don't know the way. It also prevents you from talking about the information in the journals outside of the rooms. If you are meant to say, the school will guide you there. Most students don't talk about going there because it can make the students who don't find the way resentful.”

Lucian added, “That’s where our proof is, but we can never tell anyone about it. It’s also adds to the rumors about our house, because the Slytherins who don’t find the room often end up using violence in attempts to find the room. He Who Must Not Be Named is said to have never found the room, but not for lack of trying. However, just because you never find the rooms, doesn’t mean you’re evil. It’s just one of those things that’s up to fate.”

“This is why you were so terrible at divination,” Gemma told him.

“No, I was terrible because we had a terrible teacher!” Lucian shot back, and that was the end of it.

Draco couldn't believe it. He has thought, for the most part, he knew everything there was to know about Hogwarts. His father had been giving him advice for years about Hogwarts. Why wouldn't he tell him about this?

Unless… He had never been to the room. His father didn’t like to tell him anything he couldn't do; anything his power didn't touch, he would say, wasn't worth his time anyway.

He would have to ask his mother over Christmas; sometimes his father wasn't there.

While thinking about this, Draco realized how tired he was. The other students began leaving, but Gemma said they would be done after they met the head of house. He could tell the other first years were tired as well.

Lucian was even stifling a yawn.

“He is coming soon, right?” Gemma asked, looking around at the tired first years in the common room.

“He always comes in a few minutes after we finish,” Lucian assured her.

Just then, Draco could hear steps coming from the archway leading to the Head of House chamber. The returning students that remained sat up straighter in their seats. The steps got closer, and everyone knew who was coming. There was a strange tension building. The first glimpse was of black, blowing robes, and before them stood a tall, pale man with raven black hair. He stared down at the faces of the first years with a look of utter boredom. 

“Good evening. Welcome to Slytherin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this chapter and thought, 'but where is Snape, and Draco's fear of the dark? These are the things I was promised!' all I can say is this chapter quickly got away from me. By moving those two details to the next chapter, I'm able to develop them more. So don't worry, they'll be there soon. 
> 
> Remember to leave kudos or a comment if you liked this chapter, and you want to see more.
> 
> My next chapter will go up, hopefully, on the 19th. See you all then!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm eternally grateful for my beta Jadalecki, without her, my writing would be atrocious. 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter, don't hate Severus too much. He still needs to learn.

The only first year who wasn't staring in shock at Professor Snape was Draco, and that was because he had seen his godfather too many times to be shocked by his imposing presence.

The potion professor wasted no time with his introduction, “My name is Professor Snape. I will be your head of house. Please think twice about asking stupid questions or seeking me out to earn my favor. Have a good evening.” And without delay, the professor left the room, his cloak whirling behind him.

Once he was gone, Gemma and Lucy burst into laughter.

“God, He does it every year and I still can't get over it.”

“Do you remember when he did that our first year?”

Gemma snorted. “I was terrified for a month.”

They both seemed to realize that the first years were staring at them with open mouths.

Gemma took pity on them and explained, “ Professor Snape wants everyone in the other houses to think he is strict, and that he doesn't care about them. He acts rude around the first years because he doesn't trust them not to tell the other classes the truth.”

Some of the first years looked relieved, but others (Harry, for example), looked skeptical.

Luckily, since they'd seen Professor Snape, they could go to their dorms and sleep, finally. The girls went with Gemma, and the boys went with Lucian. He led them further into the dungeon as he explained in more detail how the rooms worked.

“The other houses have charms to keep boys out of girls dorms and girls out of boys, but in Slytherin, we realize that the older years, the ones the wards are meant to keep out, are far smarter than those very wards. But, let it be known that Professor Snape, as well as Gemma and I, have access to a map that shows which students are in each room.”

As they got to the first group of dorms they saw there were names engraved on them, two names per door.

“One way that all Hogwarts houses are the same is that your room is your room for all your years at Hogwarts. You don't change rooms each year. So, this year, the first years are on the third row.”

Marcus Flint had left the common room ahead of them, but now slowed to walk with them. He added, “the fifth years have been last our entire time at Hogwarts.”

Lucian rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything to Flint about walking with them.

“I'm in charge of picking your roommate, and I've already pretty much decided where you guys should go. If you need to switch, all four of the roommates involved should go to the current prefix and request a change. Does that make sense?”

All boys nodded, and Flint commented again saying, “We are lucky; in Gryffindor, they put all the students in the same room. In the 6th year boys dorms, there are seven of them.”

Lucian looked at Flint with a smirk. “Flint, I didn't know you were so familiar with the sixth year boys’ Gryffindor dorms. Did Wood give you a private tour?”

Flint blushed and stammered a bit before telling them he should get to bed. “Big day tomorrow… Bye.”

Lucian chuckled and Flint ran off, and all the first years watched with a confused look. 

“Why would he be embarrassed by someone showing him dorms?” Harry whispered.

“I don’t know,” Draco replied. “Maybe because it was a Gryffindor?”

Lucian seemed far too amused by the first years’ conversation. He didn’t stop laughing until they got to the third group of doors, the ones with no names on them.

“Here we are!” Lucian announced. There were three doors, two on the right and one on the left. Lucian stood in front of the first door on the right and tapped his wood against the wood. “Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.” Their names appeared on the wood. Lucian opened the door, and Crabbe had to help Goyle into the room because he was falling asleep. As they entered the room, Draco saw that their luggage had already been delivered to their room.

“Goodnight you two,” Lucian called after them. “Someone will be along to wake you up for breakfast. When you want the lights to go out, simply sat goodnight. If you want them to turn back on, just say good morning.” He shut the behind them, moving on to the next empty door.

“Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott.” The names appeared, and Draco was happy that he would be with Harry, but he didn’t miss the look that Theo gave him as Blaise dragged him into the room, all the while talking about how tired he was. Draco had no idea how Blaise was even moving his mouth.

When Lucian said, “Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy,” Draco wasted no time hurrying into the room. He contemplated sleeping in his robes, but in the end, decided it wouldn’t be worth it, and changed in the corner, while Lucian talked to Harry about his owl.

“They always do this. The other houses have windows so it’s not a problem sending the owl to their room, but we’re in the dungeons. If you think she’ll be okay in her cage tonight, I’ll take you up to the owlry first thing in the morning and we can get her settled before breakfast. That sound okay?”

Harry nodded and Lucian left, being careful not to say goodnight as he left. The two boys got ready for bed quickly, and the only noise was Harry whispering to Sal in parseltongue. The snake had slithered out from under his shirt as soon as Lucian had left the room. Draco asked if the snake had minded hiding in Harry’s robes all day, but Harry told him he liked it, because Harry was warm. He said he was planning on asking Professor Snape for permission to keep him in the morning, but until then he felt better hiding him. 

As both boys changed into their pajamas, Draco noticed that Harry’s pajamas resembled the clothes he’d worn on the first day they met. A baggy cotton shirt that hung of his skinny shoulders. They were an odd pair, with Draco in his dark green silk pajamas his mother had bought special for school.

Draco felt so tired; he was sure he would have no trouble falling asleep, but when Harry said goodnight, and the lights went out, Draco found that sleep wouldn’t come. In his room at home, he had a little charm his mother made him years ago (his mum was brilliant at charms) that was a little night light. Now, without any light, Draco found himself filled with worry. 

He rolled onto his side and stared at Harry, who was lying in the bed across from him.

“Hey Harry,” he whispered, and Harry rolled onto his side to face Draco.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Draco couldn’t see Harry’s face but he imagined his friend was looking at him with a confused expression.

“Yes. Why?”

“Well, you know, some people have trouble moving to a new place. And you know, it’s really dark here. I just started to make sure you were alright.”

Harry took a second before replying, “It’s actually better than where I usually sleep, and I’m used to the darkness by now. When I was little, I used to be afraid, so I would imagine my parents were with me, and made me feel better.”

Draco was still a little scared, but when he thought about a little Harry all alone, thinking about his dead parents, it made him feel a little better, and he was able to drift off to sleep.

***

Severus Snape often stayed up later than everyone at Hogwarts, but it was usually his choice. It was rarely because he couldn’t fall asleep. But as he sat at his desk, his mind kept going back to the new Slytherins. Well, one in particular. 

Lily had once said that she thought the Slytherin robes would bring out the green in her eyes, but even Severus had to admit there wasn’t someone more suited to the Gryffindor house since Godric himself. But the boy, Harry, looked so different from either parent in green despite having James’ face. In the Great Hall, the boy looked like a mirror of his father, but in the common room, his scared face hadn’t reminded Snape of Potter at all, who face was always twisted into an expression of disgust, not fear. No, he had been reminded of another Slytherin, who had come to Hogwarts lost and afraid. Despite the difference in facial features, there was something in the boy’s eyes…

Severus sighed, feeling a headache building. Perhaps the boy was like his father, perhaps not, but it was Severus’ self-assigned job to teach stuck up children that the world didn’t revolve around them, and there was no doubt in his mind, with all the stories they told about him, that Harry Potter was stuck up.

Snape pulled out the map that showed which rooms his Slytherins were in, and tried not to remember the man who helped him make it. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were next to each other, grey to indicate that they were sleeping. 

Snape wondered why Draco had befriended Harry. Had his father put him up to it? He’d have to watch the pair closely, to make sure Lucius didn’t do something stupid like kill the boy. If there was one thing the potion’s master was certain about Harry Potter, it was that he was making his life complicated, and that was reason enough to despise him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go! Have a happy Christmas! You know, a nice Christmas present for your favorite Drarry author would be a kudo or a comment XD.
> 
> Anyway, next chapter should be up on January 2nd, so look forward to that!
> 
> As of right now, I'm looking at 16 total chapters, which would mean we're halfway there. However, knowing me, I'll probably think of something else I want to add that lasts another chapter, so we'll see.
> 
> Have a wonderful rest of the year.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's early in the morning January 3rd were I am, and I just got off work, so I'm going to call this a win. Here's the next chapter.
> 
> This chapter wasn't beta'ed by Jadalacki, because she was unavailable, but it was beta'ed by another friend of mine named Victoria. Every time you see a comma, thank her.
> 
> One more thing... I MADE IT TO 200 KUDOS!! I'm so so grateful to all of you who read and like my story, you really don't know how much it means to me.
> 
> As always, I hope you like it. :)

When the third year came to wake Draco up (Lucian and Harry had left about an hour ago) he felt like he'd slept for five minutes. When he finally dragged himself out of bed, into his robes, and out of his room, he saw that the other southern boys shared his sediments. Crabbe and Goyle were only contented by the fact breakfast would be starting soon.

When the boys made it to the Great Hall (beating the girls by almost twenty minutes) Harry was waiting for them. Harry told them about the owlry as they served themselves.

Towards the end of breakfast, the heads of each house got down from the staff table and made their way through the rows of students, handing out schedules along the way.

When he got to the first years, Professor Snape handed the whole stack to Lucian. As he was leaving, Harry call out to him.

“Professor Snape, sir, I was wondering if I could talk with you.”

The Potions Master gave Harry a funny look, “I have a very busy day today, I'm sure whatever question you have can wait until lessons begin.” And, without waiting for a response from Harry, he went back to the staff table.

Harry looked saddened by the treatment, but perked up when Draco reminded him, “It's just an act. He doesn't really dislike you.” Still, Draco was worried as well, as he had never seen his godfather act that way before.

Gemma was looking over Lucien's shoulder at their schedules, “Sweet. The only class you guys share with Gryffindor is potions.”

Lucian nodded, “And they've got Transfiguration with Ravenclaw.”

“Do you want to walk them through a week then? Then do the popular hangouts?”

“Yeah, that works.”

Once all the first years had finished with their breakfast, the two prefects led the Slytherins to the entrance hall. On the way they heard many students whispering about Harry. Draco wasn't surprised; after all, Harry was a celebrity, but Harry was obviously uncomfortable being the center of attention. Draco glared at several whispering students, because he knew Harry wouldn't. Even though Harry had been sorted into the house known for being rude and self-centered, he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Honestly, it was his worst quality.

The prefects didn't say anything at first, giving Draco and the other first years time to look around. Draco was already used to castles like this so he decided to watch his housemates instead.

That mainly meant he was watching Harry.

Harry was staring at the 142 moving staircases in all. They looked like they went on forever. And as he looked at the portraits they looked back and waved. Draco was sure he had explained this concept to Harry already, but the raven haired boy was still fascinated. 

Draco decided he should probably look at someone else, before someone noticed he was staring at Harry.

“Okay,” Gemma called, and everyone turned to her, “ classes start on Monday, tomorrow, and we can't spend the time Between then and now touring the school.”

She gestured to Lucien, who began passing out schedules to all the students.

“Everyday you have breakfast, lunch, and dinner, as well as four class periods; one of them is a free, three of them you'll have classes. The only exception is Wednesday, when you have astronomy at midnight, and every other Saturday you'll have broom practice, until the weather gets bad.”

“Now, who can tell me what class we have first?”

The Slytherins all looked down at their schedules.

“Transfiguration?”

“Good job, Davis,” Lucian smiled and Tracy beamed.

Draco rolled his eyes. How come people thought Lucian’s charms were so charming? He just helped people and they thought he was so cool. News flash, anyone can help people.

“The Transfiguration classroom is on the seventh floor. That’s also where the the Gryffindor common rooms are.”

The two prefects led the first years to the classroom, and then they were off. Next, the Herbology classrooms, which were outside in the greenhouses. As they walked by, Draco saw Longbottom speaking to a plump, rosy-cheeked professor, who looked a mix of shocked and ecstatic. Harry caught the Gryffindor’s eye and waved. Neville blushed and nearly fell over, but managed a quick wave back before they were out of sight.

They walked around the castle like that for two more hours, even repeating classrooms they’d already been to, so they would know what a week would be like.

As they walked one of the prefects would remark about how a certain part of the castle felt. The more he heard them talk about it, the more Draco (and the other first years) were able to tell which part of the castle they were in. Which stairs would lead them to the correct floor, the doors that were really only sections of wall pretending to be a door, and so on. This was a helpful skill, because Draco learned first hand this ability didn’t come naturally when he saw the Weasley boy trying to open a door that was obviously forbidden and get scolded by Flich, the nasty caretaker of the school that all the students were afraid of. He supposed, being able to sense these things was what “listening to the heart of Hogwarts” meant.

After they were finally finished, they had lunch, and then Gemma and Lucian showed them the areas they could go when they didn’t have classes. Like the library, where Harry helped Hermione with a stack of books she was carrying that was about to topple over.

“Why do you need so many books?” Goyle asked, “Classes haven’t even started yet.”

“Oh, these aren’t for classes,” the bushy-haired Gryffindor replied, “These are just some light reading for fun.”

Once she was gone, Draco turned to Harry and remarked, “And yet, she was sorted into Gryffindor.”

Lucian chuckled, “I know it seems crazy, but just you wait. The sorting hat is never wrong, Princess.”

Draco glared, but no one noticed because Lucian was leading everyone outside to the Quidditch Pitch. When they got there, the Weasley twins were racing on second-hands brooms around, swooping and diving. When they saw Harry, they pulled into two sharp dives. Draco was surprised they were able to pull off the move, with such cheap brooms.

“If it isn’t our favorite celebrity!” one twin called.

Draco expected Harry to act embarrassed. Draco knew Harry didn’t like being called a celebrity, but Harry didn’t even blush.

“How did you do that?” he asked in awe.

“You mean flying?” one asked (Draco was going to think of him as Fred, just to make it less complicated.)

“We’ve been flying since we were kids,” the other one (George) told him.

“All the first years have lessons with Madam Hooch,” Gemma added, and Draco noticed she was carefully not looking at either of the twins.

“But if you want, we could teach you how to play Quidditch,” Fred offered.

Draco wasn't about to let that happen. He been planning to teach Harry Quidditch since he learned that he didn't know how to fly.

“I was going to teach you,” Draco reminded him, not sulking at all.

Lucian laughed. It seemed he was always laughing at Draco. 

“Haven't you heard? Princess doesn't like sharing his toys,” he told the twins, who burst into laughter. Draco saw red.

‘Just wait,’ he thought, but before he could say anything, Harry interrupted.

“That's right, we did agree to that,” he sent a small smile to Draco, who realize he was being placated, but didn't really mind. “Maybe, once I know how to play, we could have a practice game?” Harry continued, now addressing the twins.

Just then, an upper year Gryffindor joined them on the field.

“You better not be giving away our secrets to the enemy,” he told the twins.

“The enemy?” George snorted, “They're first years!”

“Everything they hear goes back to the Slytherin team. You shouldn't be fraternizing with them.”

“You would know all about fraternizing with the enemy, wouldn't you Wood?”

The Gryffindor went red and open then close his mouth a couple of times before applying, “Just be careful”, and walked away.

“Don't worry about Wood,” Fred told them, “He's a good guy, he's just a little intense about Quidditch.”

“Sounds like the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint,” Harry commented.

This caused Lucian and the twins to laugh, much to the confusion of the first years, and to the annoyance of Gemma.

“Ok, one more stop and you'll have the rest of the day to do whatever you like.”

Harry said goodbye to the twins and Gemma led them to the lake. Standing there you could see the entire grounds, the forest, and the school.

“Who lives the over there?” Daphne too, pointing to a house (Which was more of a hut) on the edge of the forest.

“The groundskeeper. He was the one that led you guys here on the boats last night.”

Draco saw Harry eyeing the hut as they walked back into the school. ‘Oh boy,’ he thought, ‘I'm going to have to go in that piece of junk aren't I?’

His fears were confirmed that night at dinner, when Harry saw an article from The Daily Prophet, about the first ever break into Gringotts. 

“This vault was the one Hagrid and I visited,” Harry told him. “We have to go see him, to find out what he took.”

“Fine,” Draco sighed, “We'll go on Friday, after potions.”

And, just to be clear, he didn’t agree to see the grateful smile Harry sent his way, he really didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to include the first potions lesson, I have it written and everything, but it's like ten more pages and I didn't have time to type it all up. So, look forward to the Harry Snape talk on the 16th! 
> 
> If you liked this chapter, or the rest of my story, please consider leaving a comment or a kudo, it's the reason I keep writing. 
> 
> Have a wonderful day!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter centers around Snape, in honor of Alan Rickman. 
> 
> My normal beta Jadalacki, has been really busy lately, so for the time being my friend Victoria has been my beta. Jadalacki (Annie) has still been looking it over sometimes, and I just want everyone to know they should get a lot of the credit for the great stuff I'm able to give to you. 
> 
> I hope you guys really like this chapter. I really liked writing it.

Once school started, the days seem to fly by. Despite it being only the first week of classes, they were still assigned loads of homework, especially in Transfiguration and History of Magic. The few Slytherins with experience in the muggle world complained about the required Muggle studies, and then, after the first class, complained about how inaccurate it was. Gemma told them Dumbledore had purposely hired a pureblood to teach the Muggle studies, and a muggle born to teach the wizarding history and traditions class they would be required to take next year. Draco knew that he would feel the same frustration Harry felt with Muggle studies this year when they took wizarding history their second year, because he could hear the pureblood second years cursing over their homework already.

During their first Transfiguration class (which Slytherin shared with Ravenclaw), Draco was one of three students in the class that was able to turn a match silver. The end goal was to turn the match into a needle, but no one was able to do that.

He was also doing very well in astronomy, and he was quite happy that the years of studying his mother made him do we're finally paying off. Although, she never made him stay up until after midnight. Some of his classmates fell asleep during the late night class, but Draco couldn’t. Looking at the sky made him feel unsettled, like a storm was coming even though the night sky was completely clear.

He did somehow manage to wake up late every morning (especially Thursday morning) but when Friday came around, he managed to wake up early. So not as early as Harry apparently, who had taken to waking early to write in his journal.

“You excited, too?” Draco asked.

“Excited?” Harry replied, “More like nervous.” He was sitting hunched over his potions book, Sal curling a figure 8 around his shoulders. “ If I don't impress him, Professor Snape won't let me keep Sal.”

“If he doesn't let you keep Sal, then he and I are going to talk, and I'm going to set him straight. He might be my professor, but he's my godfather first!”

Harry smiled and closed the potions book. “Thanks, but I'm sure it will be fine.”

Despite this, Harry was still visibly nervous as breakfast ended and they made their way down to the potion classrooms. Professor Snape watched them come in with a disapproving look.

Once everyone was seated, Professor Snape took roll. Draco noticed he paused at a couple of the names (Harry, and Weasley) but he didn't make any comments.

After he was sure all the students were present, he looked up at the class.

“You are here to learn to subtle science and the exact art of potion making.” The first years hung on every word. “As there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle Fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

Draco thought the whole speech was a little much, and looking around he could see this several other students thought the same. Many were yawning or rolling their eyes. Though some, like Hermione, looked completely ready to prove him wrong.

“Potter,” Snape called out suddenly, as if he had just noticed him there, “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

‘What is he doing?’ Draco thought, ‘that isn't even in the first year curriculum.’

Hermione, sitting across the room, raised her hand, but Snape ignored her. Harry looked mortified. Drace would have whispered the answer to him if that wouldn’t have just made Snape more angry.

“I don't know, sir,” he finally admitted, and Snape shook his head.

“Tut tut. I guess we'll try another. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

Hermione’s hand began waving, and Draco shot a glare at Weasley, who looked like he was going to start laughing. This time however, Harry's eyes lit up after a few seconds.

“The stomach of a goat!” He announced triumphantly. “I remember because it cures most poisons. Which I thought was strange because, how can one ingredient cure potions that have different bases?” His eyes widened when he realized he’d been rambling.

Snape’s eyes also widened, and though it was subtle, Draco saw that Snape was impressed Harry was already enthusiastic about potions.

“That's correct. Two points for Slytherin for answering the question, as well as telling us the use of a bezoar.” And with that slight praise Snape turned, and Harry sighed in relief.

Weasley was looking decidedly less like laughing now, because Snape had moved on to a different target.

He found it in Neville Longbottom, who looked a couple glares away from hiding underneath the desk.

“Longbottom, tell me, what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?”

Neville went pale, and Draco wasn't sure, as he opened his mouth, if he was going to speak or vomit.

When he finally did say something, it was so quiet that even Seamus Finnegan, his lab partner, couldn't tell what he said.

“Um, I think he said ‘nothing’? And something about aconite?”

Draco’s eyes widened. He thought Neville had been so nervous because he was worried about not knowing the answer, but the Gryffindor didn’t look like he even had to think about it. Who knew Longbottom actually knew his plants? He supposed that was why he and Harry had seen Neville in the greenhouse.

Snape lessened his sneer slightly, “While it is correct, that Wolfsbane and Monkshood are the same plant that also goes by the name aconite, you would do well to speak for yourself. Now, why aren't you all writing this down?”

Everyone scrambled to find parchment and quills.

The rest of the class passed in relative peace, with only one other interruption. Snape had them brew a simple potion to cure boils. He kept a close eye on Harry, who remained focused on the potion, and ended up making an almost perfect one. Draco was his partner, but he did as little as he could to make sure his godfather couldn't credit Harry's work for to him. Snape didn't point out the fact that Draco wasn't doing any work, but he sneeringly criticized Weasley, who was letting Hermione do all his work. Weasley blushed as red as his hair, and Draco struggled to keep from laughing, when Harry shouted, “No! Neville!”

Everyone in the classroom froze, and looked at Harry or Neville, and both boys blushed.

Harry walk over to nobles table to talk quietly, but with the silence in the room, it was easy to hear what they were saying.

“Take the cauldron off the heat, before you add the porcupine quills. The porcupine quills are heat inducers, so if you put the heat inducers in heat, the potion will destabilize and explode.” 

Neville's eyes widened as he looked at the porcupine quills in his hands.

“Thanks Harry, I'm not very good at this stuff.”

“That's not true, you just need to slow down some. I have to read the instructions at least three times before I understand it, and I'm always mixing up words, but if you're just careful, then you won't make as many mistakes.”

By the end of their conversation, the only two people still listening was Draco and Snape. Draco caught the professor's eye and gave him a smug look, and the teacher returned by raising one eyebrow. 

An hour later, when the class was almost over, everyone had finished their potions with varying degrees of success. The best two potions were the ones Harry and Hermione made, and the worst was the one made by Crabbe and Goyle.

As everyone was leaving, Draco noticed Harry wasn't packing his bag.

“You're going to do it now?” Draco asked.

“Might as well,” Harry nodded, “After this, we’ll go talk to Hagrid.”

Draco nodded and knew that Harry wanted him to leave. He finished putting his books in his bag and left the classroom, giving Harry one last reassuring smile as he went.

Once he was out in the hall, he waited about one minute before pushing his ear to the door.

“-Just not safe. There are rules for a reason Mr. Potter, and you’re not above them.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, sir. I just thought, because he’s not venomous-”

“But who’s going to stop him if he decides to bite someone?”

The room went quiet, and Draco pressed his ear harder to the door, not wanting to miss anything. 

“But what if I could?” came Harry’s reply, and Draco had to stifle his own gasp. 

“What?”

“If I could, stop him? If I could prove I could stop him from biting anyone, would I be able to keep him?”

“I’m not overly fond of ‘what if’s, Mr. Potter.”

“I understand, sir, but if I could-”

“But you can’t!”

“Yes, I can!... sir.”

“There’s no way you can guarantee-”

“I can talk to him.”

Silence once again filled the room.

“Draco calls it parseltongue.”

“Draco knows about this?”

“Yeah, but he’s the only one. He told me it’s usually really rare and… I don’t need anything else making me seem more weird, I already have enough people staring at me.”

Draco wished more than everything he could see into the room at that moment, because he would’ve killed to see the look on Severus's face, the face that went with the soft, almost kind voice he used to address Harry.

“Well then………... I suppose, due to your special circumstances, you can keep the snake.” 

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Potter.”

“Harry.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just Harry. If you don’t mind, sir.”

“...Harry then. Now, I have lots of grading to do, and I'm sure you want to take advantage of your break.”

“Of course; goodbye professor.”

Draco quickly took several steps back and tried to act casual as Harry left the classroom. He tried to catch his Godfather's eyes, but the teacher had his back turned, but just before the door closed he spoke one more time.

“Oh, and Mr… Harry. About your question. The bezoar works in potions with different bases because of a very simple concept. Magic. Some advice, from someone who also grew up in the muggle world. That is the answer to most of the questions you will have your first few years.”

“Thanks, Professor.”

As he and Harry walked out of the dungeons, he casually asked, “So, what did you talk about?”

Harry laughed, “Like you weren't listening to every word.”

“I was just trying to make sure you were alright.” Harry rolled his eyes. “I swear!”

“Well, thanks,” Harry muttered.

“You know,” Draco said, subtly trying to distract Harry from the fact that he eavesdropped, “I think I'm going to ask Professor Snape why he dislikes you.”

“No! Don't do that.”

“Why? Don't you want to know?”

“Of course, but if you ask, he'll think I put you up to it, and then hate me more.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Draco said, even though he completely disagreed. He didn’t even think his Godfather disliked Harry that much anymore, not since potions class and their heart to heart. Snape had even told Harry something about his past, which was practically unheard of. He only agreed because he knew if he argued he’d end up promising not to go see the Potions professor, and he didn’t want to have to lie to Harry.

Harry looked like he might have caught on to Draco’s tactic, but any further suspicions were stopped by their arrival at Hagrid’s hut. Harry stopped just before the door.

Draco waited for him to knock, but instead he just stood there. "What's wrong?" Draco asked, "Do muggles not know how to knock on doors either?" Normally, a question like that would get him a sharp glare, and a “Of course muggles know how to knock,” but Harry just stood there silently.

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” he asked in a small voice.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco told him, grabbing his arm and pulling him a step closer. 

“Maybe this is a bad idea,” Harry muttered, but Draco ignored him and knocked three times on the giant wooden door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, please consider leaving a kudos, or a comment. It really means a lot.
> 
> The next chapter should be up on the 30th of January. Look forward to that.
> 
> Have a great day! :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, It's a day late, and it's pretty sad...  
> And I have more bad news.
> 
> I have to take another little break for the month of February. It's my birthday on the 14th, and my brother's is on the 9th, and there's just so much stress that I had to cut something, and unfortunately, it had to be my writing. 
> 
> There is some good news however. I'm going back through my older chapters and adding to them. I've done the first thru third chapters (I added quite a bit to the 2nd, so you might want to go back and reread that one)
> 
> This chapter was betaed by my friend Victoria.
> 
> Hope you like it :)

As soon as the first knock hit the wood, several barks rang out and the boys could hear claws scraping against the wood.

“Back Fang! Back!” Hagrid’s voice boomed, causing Draco and Harry to instinctively step away from the door.

“Who’s it?” Hagrid asked, opening the door, still trying to hang on to Fang.

The two Slytherins were obviously not what Hagrid was expecting. He was so shocked he let go of the dog, who came barreling straight towards them. Draco had only a brief moment to contemplate the reason the dog had been given the name Fang before it reached them.

He was on Harry first, and Draco felt a flash of panic before he realized the dog was licking Harry, not trying to eat him. Harry laughed and started petting and scratching Fang’s ears. The dog looked back to its master, letting out a joyous bark and sat down on top of Harry.

Hagrid, who had been watching the scene from the doorway, sprang forward, grabbing Fang’s collar. 

“Fang, no! What did I tell you about sitting on people?” He grabbed Fang by his collar and started pulling the giant dog inside.

“You two come on in,” Hagrid told them over his shoulder.

As Draco entered Hagrid’s home, behind Harry, he wasn’t surprised by the simple wooden furniture, or the mess, but he couldn’t deny there was a warmth to the hut, and it wasn’t just coming from the large fireplace.

“Go ahead, sit down. Care for a scone?” Draco and Harry both politely declined, sitting down at the table in the kitchen. Hagrid pulled a pot of tea off the wood stove, and poured them each a cup. Everything in the house was giant size, giving Draco the impression that he didn’t have guests often. Despite the large furniture and utensils, the hut itself was fairly small, making everything cramped. Draco looked around, and he could practically hear his mother’s voice, telling him all the reasons Hagrid was being a bad host. 

“So, what brings you two down here?” Hagrid asked, suspicion clear in his voice. Apparently, none of the giant bones in Hagrid’s body were subtle.

Harry’s nervous fidgeting, which had subsided when he was playing with the dog, returned. Draco answered for him.

“You said Harry could visit when he got to Hogwarts.”

“Yeah, but that was before…”

“Before what?” Draco sneered, already knowing the answer.

But before Hagrid could reply, Harry stopped him, placing a hand on Draco’s arm. 

“I’m sorry Hagrid,” Harry started, and Draco snorted. Why was Harry apologizing when it was this oaf that was wrong?

“Whatever I did to upset you, I’m sure I can fix it. Just let me know and-”

“You can’t ‘fix’ the house you were sorted into,” Draco cut in and Harry looked at him in shock.

“Draco! I’m sure that’s not…” he turned to Hagrid, who was looking guiltily at the ground.

“He hates Slytherin. Why else would he tell you all Slytherins were evil? He was obviously trying to make you feel the same way he did. It just shows how shallow and-”

“Would you shut up!?” Harry yelled.

Draco turned to his friend, ready to defend himself. What was Harry’s problem, Draco was helping him, didn’t he see that? But his mouth went dry when he saw tears in Harry’s eyes. His fists were clenched, yet he looked calm. Hagrid was doing everything he could not to look at Harry, he hadn’t said a word throughout everything Draco had said, which just confirmed what an idiot he was. 

“You were nice to me, Hagrid,” Harry told the giant man, his voice steady, despite his tears. “You were nice to me when not a lot of people had been. I had hoped we’d be good friends, but I understand that you don’t want that. But I won’t forget you were nice to me. Come on, Dray.” Harry stood and walked to the door, Draco followed behind him, not even bothering to send Hagrid a glare.

Fang barked when they got to the door, but for the first time, made no move to run over to them.

Harry smiled, “it was nice to meet you too, Fang,” and as they walked out of the door, Draco wondered how Harry could cry so quietly. When he cried (which was never, because Malfoy’s didn’t cry) he made a lot of noise. His mother would come and comfort him, when he was little, until his father said he was to old, and one of the house elves would come. Dobby, would sometimes take one of his father’s handkerchiefs (which were one of the only pieces of fabric besides rags that wasn’t considered clothes). 

Harry walked fast and they were already almost back to the school before Draco found his voice again. He was still crying a little, and even though his tears were slowing, he looked more sad than draco had ever seen him.

“Are you ok?”

Harry suddenly stopped in his place, looking around. They were on the left side of the lake. They were plenty of other students, it was a nice sunny day, but no one was close enough that they could hear Draco and Harry talking, or see that Harry had been crying. Despite his worry about Harry, Draco was a little proud of Harry’s thinking. When they had first met, Harry had a habit of saying whatever he was thinking right there. Now, he knew better. 

After confirming it was safe, Harry admitted, “I… I knew- I mean, Gemma told me that people would dislike me because I’m a Slytherin, but I didn’t realize it would be people who were my friends…”

Draco wanted to comfort Harry by telling him Hagrid was dumb, and didn’t deserve Harry’s friendship anyway, but he was worried about being told to shut up again.

So instead, he grabbed Harry’s hand and started pulling him towards the castle.

Harry followed him, quietly, without protesting all the way up to the owlery.

As soon as they arrived, Harry’s snowy owl, Hedwig, flew down and landed on his arm. Harry stroked her feathers, and he finally asked, “So, what are we doing up here?”

Draco was looking up, his eyes narrowed. “I’m looking for my mum’s owl. She told me she would send me sweets once a week. I wanted to wait until tomorrow at breakfast, so everyone in the school would see, but this situation clearly calls for sweets.

Draco looked around once more, realizing with a sigh how he’d have to get the owl to come down.

“Mistress Calpurnia!” he called, a little embarrassed to be addressing an animal like this in front of Harry, “Your presence is requested down here!”

Harry chuckled, and Draco shot him a glare.

“Sorry,” Harry told him, still laughing, “It just figures that even your bird would be posh.”

Just then, a large Eagle Owl flew down, carrying a package with her. She landed on a perch in front of Draco. She looked at Draco, then at Harry and Hedwig.

Calpurnia let out a little trill in Hedwig’s direction, lifting up her beak. Draco didn’t have to speak owl to understand what that meant. 

Hedwig obviously understood what it meant too. With a loud hoot, she launched off Harry’s arm and flew straight at the other bird.

Harry shouted, “Hedwig!” but the Snowy Owl would not be stopped. Draco gave Calpurnia a look that said, ‘You started it.’ Calpurnia wasn’t about to give up her perch, and she straightened her back, in hopes of intimidating the other owl with her size. 

Hedwig’s goal, however, didn’t appear to be knocking Calpurnia off her perch. Instead she flew in circles around the bird, flapping a lot and ruffling up all of the Eagle Owl’s feathers. When Calpurnia realized what Hedwig was doing, she let out a cry, thrusting her foot out to Draco. Draco, sensing his owl was about to dart away, quickly untied the package.

As soon as it was free, Calpurnia leaped into the air, flew to the high perches of the owlery where the other owls were still sleeping and disappeared from sight. Hedwig landed on the perch she’d won and let out a satisfied coo. 

Draco and Harry looked at each other before bursting into laughter, Harry smiling for the first time since they’d left Hagrid’s hut. 

The two stayed in the owlery to eat, because Harry wanted to keep petting Hedwig, although, Darco did have them find an area a little ways away where they weren’t around the owls. Harry reminded him that there were charms that kept the owlery clean and kept it from smelling, but Draco wasn’t taking any chances. Harry also let Sol out from under his shirt, allowing Draco to pet him and hissing softly. Draco had always thought that listening to parseltongue would be intimidating (in a cool way), but with when Harry spoke it, it just sounded soothing. Harry went back and forth between parseltongue and English, allowing Draco to ask Sol questions. 

When the sweets were almost gone, Draco decided to apologize to Harry. He had weighed the pros and cons (the cons being that he hated apologizing, the pros being he wouldn’t feel guilty), and he knew he had to. 

During a break in the conversation, Draco looked down, and said, “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

Harry went still, a piece of half eaten candy still in his hand, and Draco worried for a second that he’d done the wrong thing. Harry sometimes hated things that everyone else liked, and maybe this was one of them. 

“Why are you apologizing?” Harry finally asked, after almost a minute of Draco worrying.

“What?” 

“I shouldn’t have been crying in front of you in the first place. I know I’m really annoying when I cry-”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t even notice you you were so quiet. I shouldn’t have said that stuff about Hagrid when I knew you liked him.” 

Harry looked at Draco, and Draco realized they were having two different conversations.

“Who told you that you are annoying?” he asked.

“My Cousin, but my uncle agrees with him. He would always punish me when he’d see me crying.” Harry shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal.

Draco pushed the food out from between them. He looked at Harry, who looked back at him. Draco had no idea how to comfort someone, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. He leaned in and wrapped his arms around Harry. After a moment, Harry hugged him back. When the hug was over, Draco sat back, and grabbed another candy.

“What was that for?” Harry asked, and Draco threw a candy at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go! Hope you liked it!
> 
> The next new chapter will be March 5th, but ever Saturday between then, I will be revamping at least one of my older chapters, so I'm not just abandoning this fic.
> 
> Have a great day!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is a day late, but It's here!!
> 
> Hope you like it. 
> 
> :)

The next morning was their first flying lesson, and it was with the Gryffindors. Both Harry and Draco were nervous; Harry because he’d never been on a broom before and Draco because he’d spent the past few weeks telling everyone how talented he was on a broom, and no one would let him live it down if he messed up.

They arrived before the Gryffindors, and Blaise and Draco gave advice to Harry and Theo.

“Don’t fall off.”

“Thanks, Zabini.”

A couple of Gryffindors arrived, including Neville and Hermione. Neville was whispering anxiously and gesturing to a small glass ball filled with red smoke.

“Is that a remembrall?” Blaise asked when the Gryffindors came into earshot.

Neville nodded, and Harry asked, “What’s a remembrall?”

“It tells you if there’s something you’ve forgotten. See, if you hold it tight, like this, and if it turns red, you’ve forgotten something.”

“So what did you forget?” Theo asked, and Neville shrugged his shoulders, looking even more worried than he had before.

“I was just telling Neville, I think it’s a useless invention,” Hermione remarked, “because it just makes you worry over something you can’t control.”

“Yeah, Neville,” Harry agreed with an encouraging smile. “Plus, I bet we’ve all forgotten something.”

Neville shook his head. “That’s what Hermione thought at first, too, but she’s not forgotten anything.” Harry laughed aloud.

“Yeah, but that’s Hermione for you,” Harry replied, and he held out his hand. Neville handed him the remembrall without protest. Harry clenched it in his fist, and after a few moments, it turned red. “See?”

Weasley stomped his way out onto the field as they spoke. “Hey, give that back to Neville! You may be a celebrity, but you can’t steal, Potter.” He tried to grab the glass ball from Harry, but Harry dodged his outstretched arms at the last minute.

“For your information, I wasn’t stealing,” Harry retorted, handing the remembrall back to Neville.

“Likely story,” Ron sneered.

“What are you waiting for?” A voice barked, and everyone turned to see Madam Hooch, their professor, standing on the pitch. “Everyone stand by a broomstick.” Many students stayed frozen. “Come on, hurry up!” Soon, everyone was practicing to summon his or her broom.

Draco looked down at his broom, which was so old, his grandfather had probably ridden it when he had attended Hogwarts. He rolled his eyes in clear disgust.

“Stick your right hand out over your broom,” Madam Hooch called to the students, “and say UP!”

“UP!” The students dutifully repeated.

Draco’s and Harry’s brooms jumped straight into their hands, but for most of the other students, it took a few tries. Once everyone got his or her broom to come to their hand, Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms. Ron snickered when she corrected Draco’s grip by saying he’d been doing it wrong for years. Draco glared at him. He kept glancing back to Harry, making sure he was alright, but Draco couldn’t help but notice how natural Harry looked with a broom in his hand.

“Now,” Madam Hooch began when she thought everyone was ready, “when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your broom steady, rise a few feet, and come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle. Three. Two--” But before the whistle even touched her lips, Neville shot into the air.

Everyone watched as Neville’s broom climbed. Ten feet, fifteen, twenty. They watched Neville’s face turn white with fear, as he lost grip on the broom and slid off, watched as he landed on the ground with a sickening crunch.

Madam Hooch’s face went as white as Neville’s as she made her way over to him. Bending over, she noted, “Broken wrist…” To Neville, she said, “Come on, boy. It’s alright; up you get.” While she helped him up, she turned to the rest of the class, who hadn’t said a word since Nevile’s broom left the ground a dangerous glint in her eye.

“None of you is going to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing. You leave those brooms where they are, or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch!’ Come on, dear,” she said the last more gently to Neville, and she lead him off the pitch. 

Just when they were out of earshot, Draco noticed Neville’s remembrall laying on the ground. He picked it up, pleased to find that it didn’t turn red when he squeezed it. When Ron saw Draco, however, his eyes narrowed.

“You’re a rotten thief, Malfoy,” he snapped, advancing towards Draco.

“I suppose you’d know a lot about thieves, seeing how your family has to steal--”

“Draco!” Harry shouted, glaring at Draco, and Draco rolled his eyes. Ron looked confused, but not too confused to make a grab for the remembrall.

“Sorry, I forgot I’m not allowed to insult your family because Harry likes your brothers.” Ron reached again, and Draco ducked away. “Calling you an idiot is fair game, though.” Laughing, he threw the ball in Harry’s direction just as Ron tackled him. By the time both boys got up, Harry had already handed the ball to Hermione. Ron’s furious face hadn’t tempered.

“What?” Harry asked, “Are you going to accuse Neville’s only Gryffindor friend of stealing, too? Maybe the next person you accuse of being mean to Neville should be a mirror.”

“You think you can say whatever you want because you’re famous, don’t you, Potter?” Ron snapped, taking a threatening step towards Harry.

Draco responded before Harry could. “Harry could take you anytime, no words necessary.”

“Prove it.”

“Wizards duel. Tonight. Midnight. In the trophy room.”

Ron paused, then realized his honor was at stake and promptly nodded. “Fine.” And with that, he stalked off.

Hermione scurried over to them and asked, “You aren’t really going to duel, are you?”

“Of course not,” Draco snorted, and Harry sighed in relief. “We’re going to tell Filch we heard some boys talking about sneaking out to the trophy room tonight.”

“Draco!” Harry exclaimed, worry on his face clear. “We can’t do that!”

“Why not?” Draco pouted.

“Because then, Ron will tell his housemates that we cheated him.”

“So? I don’t care what the Gryffindors think of me,” Draco sneered in disgust.

“Still, aren’t you tired of hearing what they say about us?” Harry shot back. Draco winced.

“We’re not going to change what they say in one night, Harry,” Draco attempted to calm his friend, but Harry shook his head.

“I know, but at least this way we won’t be adding to it!” Draco sighed, once again cursing Harry’s sense of good will. 

“Well then, what do you want to do? We can’t actually fight him, of course.”

“What if we go, and tell him we saw Filch, and we were just going to warn him?” Harry suggested.

“You think Weasley is dumb enough to fall for that?” Draco asked, incredulous. Harry nodded.

“He’s dumb enough to think that we bully Neville.”

And just like that, the relaxed air returned between them. Looking around, they both realized that Hermione had left during the course of their argument. Draco worried over her telling a teacher about their plan,but he didn’t want to get into another fight about a Gryffindor, so he didn’t tell Harry.

That afternoon, he and Harry went to visit Neville in the Hospital Wing. He seemed pretty shaken up, but the nurse, Madam Pomfrey, said he would be fine.

Afterwards, Harry went to the owlery and Draco, without Harry’s knowledge, went to talk to his godfather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked my fic, please leave a comment or kudos, it really means a lot. Next chapter will be up Saturday, the 26th. See you all then.
> 
> Have a great day!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, here's the next chapter. I really liked this one. I wrote it with the help of my beta Jadalaki, and my other beta Victoria helped edit it. I'm not going to promise when the next chapter will be out, because I don't know when that will be. I've got exams and finals coming up, and I'm going to be very busy, but I promise all of my limited free time will go to writing. 
> 
> But, what I can promise is between now and my next update, I will be going through my older chapters, and adding to the shorter ones and fixing up anything that's out of place. So, you won't be without new content until my next update.
> 
> Until then, as aways, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Severus was spending one of his few free nights working on a new potion, which, if successful, would allow people to speak with their subconsciouses. He’d been working on it his whole life, though he’d been forced to abandon it during his time working for the Dark Lord, who hadn’t put mental health potions high on the list of the young potions master’s duties. With a glare, he glanced down at his left wrist. He’d rolled up his sleeves when he’d started working, exposing the Dark Mark on his arm. He glanced down, watching the tattoo as it almost seemed the snake was moving on his arm. It wasn’t as if Snape was proud of the mark; far from it, but the mark had served it’s purpose and it had seemed reasonable enough at the time. Working for an immensely powerful wizard did give one access to many potions ingredients, after all. Of course, he hadn’t been thinking of the potions ingredients when he’d joined. He’d been thinking of power, and finally getting the respect he deserved. Voldemort had said he saw himself in Severus, and Severus thought, with time and effort, people would look at him the way people looked at The Dark Lord. But instead of glory, he’d only gotten madness, which he hadn’t noticed until too late. Thinking about Lily, he thought that the power was definitely not worth the price.

“Severus?” A young voice came from the doorway, and Snape turned, scowl firmly in place, only to soften slightly upon seeing his godson.

“Draco? What are you doing here?” Draco said nothing, and Snape frowned, remembering, “I told you to call me Professor at school.”

“Well, you actually told me to call you Professor in class, Severus,” he reminded him smugly. Snape sighed a long-suffering sigh.

“That’s beside the point, Draco. What in the world are you doing here so late?” Severus gave up in telling the boy to quit calling him by his name, making a mental note to chide him later.

Draco frowned, shuffling his feet. It was unlike him, as he normally was so sure of himself, a quality far too many boys his age possessed. “Well, I wanted to ask you a question. It’s been bothering me, and I know you’re going to think he asked me to come here, but he didn’t. He actually told me not to come...”

“Out with it.” 

“Severus, why don’t you like Harry?” Draco mumbled.

“Don’t mumble, Draco, it’s unbecoming,” Snape reminded him, ignoring the question and turning back to his potion with a fresh scowl on his face. Draco took a few more steps into the room.

“Severus, why don’t you like Harry? You’re always mean to him,” Draco said, louder this time, and with a touch more irritation in his tone. Severus sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“He’s an arrogant brat, just like his father,” he replied, and Draco furrowed his brows.

“You knew Harry’s father?” Draco asked first, but then he shook his head. “Wait, Severus, how would you know if Harry was arrogant or not?”

Severus floundered for a moment, searching for an answer that would satisfy without making him sound like he hated all children. Which, to be fair, Severus wasn’t much for children, but he didn’t hate all of them. “He… He doesn’t do his work.”

“Yes he does,” Draco countered. “He answers plenty of questions correctly in your class, and we work on homework together.”

“So he just copies you, then,” Severus said with a small, triumphant smirk. Draco shook his head vehemently.

“No! No, of course he doesn’t!” Severus put a finger to his lips, quieting the boy. Sheepishly, Draco continued, “He’s smart and kind and a good friend.” Snape frowned again. He knew very well that Draco wasn’t to really be friends with Potter, as Lucius had contacted him before school started, telling him of his plan to use Potter for his influence at the Ministry. It appeared even Draco was naive to this plan, and he couldn’t very well condone Draco losing one of his few real, mildly intelligent friends. And just when did he start thinking of Potter as mildly intelligent?

“Severus?” Draco mumbled again. Snape thought that he could leave the berating to Lucius and let Draco mumble. “Have you ever spoken to Harry?”

“Of course I have; he’s my student, Draco,” Snape snorted. Draco shook his head.

“No sir, I meant have you ever said hello to him? Talked to him about his potions? Or answered a homework question? Anything?”

“No,” Severus admitted. “Nor do I have any intention to.” Draco glared at him with all the power the eleven year-old could muster.

“Why not?”

“Don’t be petulant, Draco,” Snape warned, too tired to deal with Draco’s bratty antics. Draco still glared, clearly waiting for an answer. Severus ignored him.

There was a long silence during which Severus went back to work and Draco himself perched on the edge of a table and watched. Snape wasn’t sure if Draco was biding his time until Snape caved and answered him, or if the boy was legitimately interested in his work. Maybe both, he thought, glancing over to see Draco staring intently at his godfather’s cauldrons. Unfortunately, Draco turned to look back at Snape and frowned again. In a huff, the young blond turned away from the potion, feigning disinterest.

“His father wasn’t particularly kind to me, Draco. I’m not keen on making nice with his children,” Severus admitted quietly. Draco snapped to attention. The boy was very quiet for a moment, staring at his godfather with wide eyes. After that moment, however, Draco schooled himself back to his Malfoy indifference.

“Oh.” Severus could have laughed at Draco’s ineloquence, but he didn’t. He was caught up in emotions he thought he’d left behind the Halloween night ten years ago. “What about his mother? She went to Hogwarts too right? Did you know her?” Draco asked.

Snape hesitated for a long moment. Should he lie? “Yes,” he finally replied, “but that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “If it doesn’t matter what his mother was like, then why does it matter what his father was like?” He asked it like it was the most simple question in the world, but Snape couldn’t answer.

“Draco?”

“Yes Severus?”

“Take your nose out from where it doesn’t belong.”

Draco sighed. “Yes, sir.”

Another long silence ensued. Draco idly wandered the room. Severus figured that he must have something else to say or else he would’ve left, so he just waited, patiently looking over his ingredients for his potion until his godson found his words.

“I accidentally got Harry into a duel with a Gryffindor and he doesn’t want to do it but he doesn’t want to back out either and I don’t know what to do,” Draco blurted, staring at his shoes.

Severus, sighed heavily, expecting something like this. He looked up at Draco from across the table with a tired scowl. While he mildly irritated at his godson for being so reckless, he was more concerned with his safety. “You started this?” He demanded, and Draco said nothing, a shameful blush creeping over his face. That was all the answer Severus needed.

“You have to go, of course,” he said with a sigh, and Draco nodded. “And you clearly should not duel. Someone will get hurt, and I’d rather it not be you.” Draco nodded again. Severus sat in thought for a minute, but he came up with a plan.

“Wait here, Draco,” he ordered, and Draco stood still while Severus whisked away to his storeroom.

Severus could not believe that he was doing this. This was reckless and Snape was definitely going to get in trouble if someone caught him giving a potentially dangerous potion to his young godson. Not to mention the fact that helping Draco would also mean helping Potter, and that boy didn’t need any more confidence. A small voice in the back of his head, that sounded suspiciously like his godson, asked when Snape had seen the boy acting overly confident in the first place, but Snape shook his head, clearing the thought without actually responding to it.

Upon reaching his storeroom, Snape quietly unlocked the door and grabbed a small vial with dark violet liquid. He held it up to his eyes for a moment, checking the color and consistency to make sure the potion was still viable. It had been quite some time since he had a need to use this potion. 

Once he was sure the potion would work like it should, he checked the stopper and slipped the vial into the front pocket of his robes.

Severus made his way back to his office as quickly as he could, and once inside, he shut the door and locked it, though such a thing didn’t tend to deter anyone at Hogwarts. Draco looked up from the floor blearily, but he cleared up when he saw Severus.

“Severus, what did-”

“Hush. What I’m about to give you is a potion that could be quite dangerous in less careful hands. Do you understand, Draco?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, clearly curious but still understanding of the urgency. Severus was proud of him.

“Draco, right before the duel starts, throw this at the ground between Potter and this Gryffindor. It will create a loud noise and bright light, and I must warn you that this could be harmful if it detonates too close to another person. Please be careful, Draco.”

“I will be, Severus. Thank you,” Draco promised, and he slipped the vial into his robes and slipped out the door as Snape unlocked it. It was getting late, after all. Severus sighed and nearly settled back into his potion work when Draco poked his head back in.

“Severus? Please think about what I said about Harry. Thank you again,” the boy said, and he disappeared again.

Severus sighed and finished the last of his notes before carefully disposing of the potion he’d been making. He had far too much on his mind tonight to focus on potions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you go. Let me know if you liked my impression of Severus, he's one of my favorite characters (and one of the most misrepresented in the books in my opinion.) 
> 
> If you like this chapter, or any of the others, please leave a kudo or a comment, it really means so much. 
> 
> Have a great day! :)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all liked it. It's quite a bit different from the first one, but I think you'll see some of the old things integrated before too long (think original characters;)).
> 
> Please leave a comment or a kudo, if you'd like, I love hearing what you think. And if you have a suggestion, the only way it will be heard is if it ends up in the comments.
> 
> Have a great day :)


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